


The Man in the Iron Maiden

by 18lzytwner



Series: Bones - First Series [9]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-30
Updated: 2008-03-30
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 24,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/18lzytwner/pseuds/18lzytwner
Summary: Workers at the Jeffersonian make a gruesome discovery. How will the team handle this new intrusion into their sanctum? What news does Brennan have to tell Booth? 9th of the series, BB and Hodgela.





	1. Chapter 1

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Monday at 10:00 am**

**_Seven weeks after “The Lady in the Lake”_ **

          Dr. Temperance Brennan paced back and forth in her office.  There was something important she needed to discuss with Angela and she couldn’t believe how long it was taking her best friend to get to her office. 

          “Sorry I’m late hun the guys are getting all excited about the new exhibit on the eighteenth century,” the forensic artist explained.

          “Can you close the door?”  Brennan asked completely ignoring her friend’s statement.  The look on the forensic anthropologist’s face made Angela slightly worried.

          “What’s wrong hun?”  She asked.

          “I don’t know how to put this…” her friend started.  That’s when Hodgins pounding on the office door interrupted their conversation.  Angela looked at Brennan who nodded for her to open it.

          “You guys have to come see this.  You’re never going to believe what they found,” the excited entomologist said.  Angela rolled her eyes, expecting it to be something bug related.

          “Lead on McDuff,” she said.  Brennan quickly followed the couple out into the lab and up to the platform.

          “Why is there an iron maiden lying on the lab table?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “And what is that God awful smell?”  Her friend asked.

          “The movers went down to the storage unit in the basement to pull up the items for the eighteenth century exhibit and that’s when they smelled something nasty.  They looked around and found the iron maiden sitting in a puddle of something,” Hodgins explained.

          “From the smell I’d say decomposing flesh but that isn’t possible because when the iron maiden came into the Jeffersonian it would have been empty,” Brennan said.

          “Right, so what now?”  Angela asked.

          “Get on your jumpsuits and goggles.  We have to open this thing up,” her friend responded.  Jack ran off to get Zach and their gear.

          “Do I have to be here for that?”  The forensic artist wanted to know.

          “No, I’ll call you if we need a face.  We’ll have to talk later,” Brennan said.

          “Ok hun.  You know where to find me,” Angela gave her a smile and then headed back toward her office.  Brennan walked off the platform and into her office to fetch her jumpsuit, goggles, and a scrunchi.

          Ten minutes later, Hodgins, Zach, and Brennan, stood next to the iron maiden.  They weren’t quite sure how to proceed, as they didn’t want to damage the over two hundred year old artifact.

          “So no one decided to call me when they got this discovery huh?”  Cam asked as she approached the group. 

          “Well we don’t even know if it’s human.  It could be a rat,” Brennan said.

          “Uh huh, well I’ll stand back here while you open it,” the Head of the Forensics department told them.  

          “All right, Hodgins, Zach we need to carefully try to pop the sides open.  Can you try to move it?”  The forensic anthropologist wondered.  The two carefully tried to push the sides open.  Surprisingly they popped right up.

          “I guess we can just open it,” Jack said.  Brennan nodded for them to continue.  Cautiously the two pushed the lid up and immediately found what was causing the smell.

          “I think you’d better call Agent Booth,” Zach told the senior anthropologist as they all peered into the torture device.

          Booth walked up to the platform some twenty minutes later and was practically knocked back because of the smell.

          “Holy… How long has our victim been in there?”  He asked.

          “It’s hard to tell.  The storage compartment is kept at a particular temperature to avoid the deterioration of artifacts.  Decomp could have been sped up or even slowed down because of it,” Brennan explained.

          “All right well how about an age or sex?”  The FBI agent wondered.

          “Gauging by the pelvis or what’s left of it, I’d say male approximately twenty five to thirty,” his partner told him.

          “And he definitely isn’t from the Middle Ages,” Booth noted.

          “Actually the iron maiden was invented in the late eighteenth century despite its association with the Middle Ages and yes, our victim was definitely not from that time period,” Zach answered.

          “Thanks for the history lesson Zach-O,” the G-man rolled his eyes.

          “So no one has said it yet,” Hodgins spoke up.

          “Said what?”  Brennan asked.

          “Gormogon,” the one word made everyone moan.

          “Not Gorgonzola again,” Despite the moan the group was quick to correct him.

          “Gormogon,”

          “Historically, the Gormogons were an eighteenth century group trying to dissolve the Freemasons and the Illuminati.  How can it be a coincidence that a body is found in an eighteenth century torture device?  Maybe they wanted to tenderize their meat before they ate it,” Hodgins’ conspiracy theory had already started.

          “The point is there is no way that our cannibal friend is in involved.  Have you found any teeth marks or missing bones?  No, this is something completely different,” Booth was quick to remind them.

          “But this is the third murder at the Jeffersonian,” Zach pointed out.  This quieted everyone.  Kirsten Reardon, Dr. Kyle Aldridge, and now this poor victim had all been murdered at the Jeffersonian.  Dr. Evan Klimkew was currently serving a very long prison term for his role in both deaths.  Unfortunately that still left all of the Jeffersonian as suspects for the new victim.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Monday at 11:30 am**

          Zach and Brennan had removed the body from the iron maiden and now the remains were spread out on a separate lab table.  Hodgins was griping that he had to ladle the body fluids out of the torture device instead drilling a hole and draining it.  Of course drilling a hole would have ruined the artifact and Brennan reminded him of that.

          “Bones, can I talk to you?”  Booth cut in as the two anthropologists were trying to catalog the parts and arrange them properly.

          “Sure.  Zach continue with this and I’ll be right back,” Brennan said.  The young man nodded and continued on.  The two partners headed to the world-renowned author’s office and closed the door behind them.

          “Listen I know that having someone working here being a killer is an uncomfortable thing but I need to know if you and the team can still be objective,” Booth told her.

          “As much as it pains me to admit that there is a another killer working here, I’m sure we can remain focused,” she promised.

          “Good, you know I don’t question you or the squints but I know that at trial, things will be skewed and they’ll try to make it look like Gorgonzola did it,” he said.  His partner didn’t even bother to correct him.  The look on her face made him a little worried.

          “Are you ok Bones?”  Booth asked.

          “I’ll be fine.  My stomach is just a little upset,” she told him.

          “Mine would be too after opening that thing,” he gave her a slight smile before continuing.

          “I’m going to make some phone calls and then I’ll come over and see what you have.”  Brennan nodded and the two left the office.  The forensic anthropologist headed back to the platform and Booth quickly made his way to Angela’s office.  He did have to call Cullen to alert him to the situation but he also had something to discuss with the forensic artist.

          “Come in,” Angela called after hearing someone knock on her office door.

          “Hey Ange, can we talk?”  Booth asked.

          “Anything for my favorite FBI agent,” she smiled.  He smirked and sat down on her couch.

          “I have something I want to ask Bones but I’m not sure how to go about it,” the words surprised the forensic artist.

          “You, Mr. Look at My Cocky Belt Buckle, don’t know how to ask Bren something?”  She tried to contain her laughter.

          “Listen Ange, we aren’t talking about some woman we’re talking about Temperance,” Booth got all serious.

          “I’m sorry hun but I just never imagined you having trouble with the ladies,” the forensic artist said.

          “I want to ask her something but I know how she gets about the whole “male dominance” thing and the archaic system,” the FBI agent explained. 

          “You do have a point but you know I’ve seen her change since you two have been dating, I’m sure that she’ll at least hear you out    before going into her whole spiel,” Angela assured him.

          “I guess I just wanted some reassurance.  This step would mean our relationship would be out in the public and we wouldn’t be able to work together anymore,” Booth said.

          “Well if you think you’re ready for that leap than go for it,” she smiled.

          “Thanks Ange, I’ll talk to you later,” he smiled back and then headed out to make his phone call.  The forensic artist just shook her head and returned to her computer screen.  It was so funny that both partners would turn to her for advice after dating each other for so long.

          Out at the platform, Hodgins was almost done scooping the body fluids out of the iron maiden when his ladle hit something.  He knew that it wasn’t one of the still very sharp spikes that lined the inside walls of the instrument of death.  Knowing it was too dangerous for him to stick his arm in there he tried to scoop it out with the ladle.  When success was achieved, he looked at his find.

          “Dr. Brennan you’d better come take a look at this,” the entomologist called over to his boss.

          “What is it Hodgins?”  She asked without looking up from her work.

          “How many holes did our vic have in him?”  He wondered.  This caused both Brennan and Zach to look up.

          “We haven’t figured out how many yet, why?”  The senior forensic anthropologist inquired.

          “Because I think I just found something that could have made holes of its own,” Hodgins pulled what looked to be a nine-millimeter pistol out of the ladle.

          “I found it in the bottom of the maiden,” he said as Brennan walked over to look at the weapon.

          “What is a gun doing in there?”  She wondered.

          “I don’t know but that should narrow our suspect pool,” the bug man postulated.

          “Yes it could,” Brennan agreed.

          “Got anything for me Bones?”  Booth asked as he swiped his card and entered the platform.

          “Nine-millimeter,” she told him as Hodgins put the slimy weapon into an evidence bag. 

          “I’ll have the lab clean and run the ballistics if it’ll still fire.  Cullen says that we’re clear to move ahead with the case.  Cam had better be brought up to date.  She’ll have to tell Bancroft what’s going on,” her partner said.

          “The last time he was here all he managed to do was threaten Angela.  He’s just an annoyance,” Brennan shook her head.

          “Careful Bones if you want to keep your job,” Booth told her.

          “Finally I’m not the only one who think Bancroft is a useless pile of crap,” Hodgins piped in.

          “Yes well Booth has a point too though,” she noted.

          “Doesn’t mean I can’t have my opinion.  He even gets close to Angela and he’ll find out how much I dislike him,” the entomologist said.  This made Booth chuckle slightly and then he took the evidence bag with the gun in it. 

          “I’ll let you know what the lab gets off of this,” the FBI agent said.

          “I’ll call you in case we find any definitive bullet holes in our victim,” Brennan promised.  Booth nodded before turning and leaving the platform.  He walked outside the lab and immediately picked up his phone.  Poking the keypad, he texted his partner.

          “Be careful, I’ll see you later and we’ll talk.”   


	3. Chapter 3

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Monday at 5:30 pm**

            Booth strode back into the Lab and could see the platform was empty.  Changing directions to Brennan’s office, he saw the door was closed.  She usually kept it open and he was wondering what could be going on as he knocked on the door.

          “Come in,” his partner called.

          “Think about what I said,” Angela smiled as she left the office leaving the two alone.

          “Everything ok Bones?”  Booth wondered.

          “Fine, I guess unless you consider the fact we have a murdering coworker to catch,” she said.  Her partner looked closer at her.  The normal spark in her eyes now seemed to be very dull and she was pale.

          “Are you sure you’re ok?  You don’t look so good,” Booth’s concerned was conveyed in the tone of his voice.     

          “I’ll be fine when this case is over,” she shook her head.  _A typical “I’m not fine and I don’t want to talk about response_ , the G-man noted.

          “Speaking of which, I have the lab running a priority on the gun.  They hope to have something soon.  Cullen says to give him a daily update,” he explained.

          “Well so far Zach has cleaned all the bones and we’re still trying to determine what holes and breaks were caused by the iron maiden or possible bullets.  Hodgins sifted through the body fluids and searched the inside of the device but didn’t find evidence of any bullets.  Angela should get the skull in the morning and hopefully give us a face,” Brennan said.

          “Sounds good.  Let’s get something to eat.  I think we both could use a break,” he gave her a smile and she nodded.  Grabbing her coat off the rack, Booth helped her into it and then placed his hand on the small of back as they walked out of the Lab together.

          “There is something going on between those two, I know it,” Hodgins said as he watched them leave and swiped into the platform.

          “What?”  Zach asked confused.

          “Dr. Brennan and Booth you numbskull.  How is it you’re supposed to be so brilliant and then completely blind?”  The entomologist wondered.

          “I am trained to look at skeletons not office relations, I believe that’s Angela’s job,” Addy replied.  Jack was about to reach over and strangle the junior anthropologist when Angela, who was coming up the platform, stopped him.

          “Don’t even think about it.  You’ll be the one having to explain to Cam and Brennan why he’s dead,” Hodgins gave her a look but put his arms down.

          “Well done Zach,” the forensic artist gave him a smile.

          “Thank you.  I have seen nothing to indicate that anything has changed between Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth.  They behave in a professional manner and can still be friends.  Much like you and I, Hodgins,” Dr. Addy replied.

          “Except the professional part,” Angela teased.  “Remember the pig and the wood chipper experiment?”  Both men did the “oh yeah there was that” head bob.

          “I think it’s time you took me to dinner Hodgins,” she continued as she leaned over and kissed him.

          “In your office?”  He asked as he kissed her back.

          “That’s it I’m getting a squirt gun,” Cam’s voice and unmistakable swipe noise carried over to the people on the platform.  At this statement, Angela and Jack spilt apart.

          “What would you use that for?”  Zach wondered.

**The Royal Diner, 6:15 pm**  

          Booth and Brennan had fallen into an oppressive silence since ordering their food.  The forensic anthropologist looked at her partner as he fidgeted in his seat.

          “Last time I saw someone fidget that much, Parker had to go to the bathroom,” she said breaking the tension.  This made her partner chuckle and he replied,

          “That was the longest ten minute drive home,”

          “It sure was.  I thought the poor boy was going to have an accident,” Brennan smiled.

          “There would be something I wouldn’t want to explain to Cullen,” the FBI agent smirked and this made both of them laugh.  It was then that his phone rang and he answered it.

          “Booth,” there was a long conversation on the other end before he thanked them and hung up.

          “What was that about?”  Brennan asked.

          “Are you up for a drive after dinner?”  He wondered.

          “Sure, Zach and Jack can handle things at the lab for a little while,” she told him.

          “The lab ran the serial number on the gun and found the registered owner, a Mr. Arthur Flynn.  Apparently he reported it stolen about six months ago,” Booth said.

          “How do you think this will help us?”  The world-renowned author was a little confused.

          “The clip was empty, hopefully this Mr. Flynn can us explain that.  Otherwise we could be looking at the gun being used in multiple crimes,” he explained.

          “That would be a logical assumption.  Zach is still trying to see what was made from either device and it seems highly unlikely that someone would unload seventeen bullets into our victim.  Someone would have definitely heard that,” Brennan nodded as the waitress dropped off their meals.  Booth thanked the girl before replying,

          “That is for sure considering it wasn’t fitted for a silencer.”  The two then tucked into their food.

**Arthur Flynn’s Residence, Alexandria, Virginia, 7:30 pm**

          Booth knocked on the door of the old colonial home and both partners were surprised when a young woman answered the door.

          “Can I help you?”  She asked.

          “I’m FBI Special Agent Booth and this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennan we’re looking for a Mr. Arthur Flynn,” he said making the introductions.

          “I’m his niece, Samantha.  He’s home, why don’t come on in,” the teenager offered.      

          “Thank you,” Booth smiled.  Samantha let them in and then took them into the living room.  There a man sat on the sofa; he appeared to be enjoying the program he was watching on TV.

          “Sorry to interrupt Uncle Art but these people are here to see you from the FBI,” the young woman explained.

          “The FBI?”  He gave a confused look and immediately stood up.

          “I’m Agent Booth and this is my partner, Dr. Brennan,” once again the introductions were made.

          “I’m not sure how I can help you but have a seat,” Flynn pointed to the sofa as he shut the television off.

          “We recently discovered your semi-automatic Smith & Wesson M&P nine millimeter pistol,” Booth started.

          “Someone used it didn’t they?”  The middle aged man asked.

          “There is a possibility of that but we’re wondering if when it was stolen how many bullets did it have left in the magazine?”  Brennan jumped into the conversation.

          “I think I had used eight or nine of the bullets but I can’t remember.  I used to go to the shooting range, fire off a magazine at least once a week to stay in practice.  The last time I used it though something wasn’t right and I only got about half the magazine before it jammed.  I had just gotten fixed when it was stolen out of my truck,” Art explained.

          “It jammed?”  Booth was interested to hear that.

          “I bought it used and it hadn’t been maintained very well so sometimes it jammed even though I did my best to clean it,” the man said.  Booth nodded and then stood.

          “Well thank you for your time, we’ll be in touch,” 

          “Is their any chance of getting it back?” Flynn wondered.

          “We’ll let you know,” the FBI agent promised.  They left the house and headed back out to the SUV.

          “So we’re looking for only eight or nine bullets,” Brennan said.

          “Sounds like fun,” her partner shook his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Tuesday 9:30 am**  

                “Got anything Bones?”  Booth wondered as he swiped onto the platform.  His partner turned to him with her hands in her lab coat pockets.  _Man she looks hot_ , he said to himself.  _Stay focused_ , he quickly chided.

          “I called you remember?”  She gave him a confused look.  The FBI agent nodded before Brennan continued.

          “Zach was able to confirm that all but two holes were from the iron maiden,”

          “So our murderer used one bullet to kill our vic,” Booth said.

          “Exactly.  The bullet entered the front of the skull and exited through the back.  However since we were unable to find a bullet or even the remains of one, it would seem that the storage unit in the basement isn’t our primary crime scene,” she told him.

          “Who shoots someone in the head and then stuffs them into a museum exhibit piece?”  The G-man wondered.

          “It doesn’t seem to be a very logical thing to do.  At some point someone would have found it.  Since the body was placed inside the iron maiden it would also indicate someone who didn’t have knowledge of the Jeffersonian’s exhibit schedule,” the forensic anthropologist said.

          “How many people know when the exhibits are going to be changed?”  Booth asked.

          “All department heads are told then they are supposed to tell everyone beneath them,” Cam told his as she entered the platform.

          “So if one of the department heads didn’t tell their employees then they wouldn’t know,” he surmised.

          “Yes that’s true or those that don’t check their departmental e-mails,” Cam nodded. 

          “That really doesn’t narrow anything down.  We’re still missing seven or eight bullets and we still don’t have an ID,” Booth sighed.

          “Well you’re only half right,” Angela interrupted as she swiped into the platform.

          “Since the field of people was narrowed considerably I compared the list of people who haven’t showed up for work in awhile and I found two.  One was Susan Martin and the other was Thomas Bryant,” the forensic artist continued.

          “What department does he work in?”  Cam asked.

          “Medieval and Renaissance,” Angela answered.

          “Coincidence, I think not,” Booth said.

          “An iron maiden is from the eighteenth century,” Brennan reminded him again.

          “Doesn’t mean that some poor delivery schmuck made a mistake and it doesn’t mean that Thomas Bryant wasn’t murdered before someone realized the mistake,” her partner argued.

          “I suppose it’s possible.  I’ll check the storage record,” Cam nodded and left the platform.

          “Meantime, I think we should go have a chat with Mr. Bryant’s boss.  See what he has to say about his employee while we wait for a search warrant for Bryant’s apartment,” Booth suggested.

**Medieval and Renaissance Department 10:15 am**

          “Dr Brennan what brings you to our little corner of the Jeffersonian?”  A gray haired man about five foot seven asked.

          “Dr. Robert Chase, this is my partner FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth.  We’re here because we have Thomas Bryant’s body down in Forensics,” the world-renown author didn’t pull any punches.

          “Good Lord.  What happened to him?” the historian asked.

          “His remains were found inside the iron maiden that was supposed to be on display in the upcoming eighteenth century exhibit,” she explained.

          “What a horrible way to die,” Chase shook his head.

          “Well Doc he had a bullet hole in his forehead so we were wondering what you could tell us about him,” Booth injected himself into the conversation.

          “Thomas was a great employee.  He was always on time, did his work, never complained, and often offered to help other departments if some of our artifacts were misplaced.  When he didn’t show up for work last week I assumed that he would call but he didn’t.  I thought he was over in another department,” Robert said.

          “So you don’t know who would want to kill him?”  The FBI agent wondered.

          “No, I’m sorry.  Although he didn’t talk about his personal life so perhaps things weren’t as good as I thought,” the historian sighed.

          “Thank you for your time.  Do you mind if we look at his work station?”  Brennan asked.

          “No, of course.  Anything to help, follow me,” Dr. Chase led them to a cubical that had Thomas Bryant’s name plate on it.

          “Let me know if there is anything else I can help you with,” the man said before leaving them. 

          “Well this has to be one of the neatest desks I’ve seen,” Booth commented.

          “I concur.  There doesn’t appear to be any personal items here.  No photos or anything,” Brennan pointed out.

          “Same for the drawers.  No organizer, lunch box, cell phone, or computer accessories.  Isn’t that a little odd?”  Her partner wondered.

          “Well not everyone decorates their desks,” she replied.

          “Even you have knick knacks on your desk,” Booth pointed out.  Reminding her that Jasper still sat on her desk.

          “Sure.  Did you try this middle drawer?”  The forensic anthropologist changed the subject.

          “No, give her a yank,” he said.  Brennan tried to open the drawer only to find it locked.

          “I guess we’d better get a key,” she jerked her head toward Dr. Chase’s office.

          “All right you do that and I’ll call on the position of the warrant,” Booth nodded.  Brennan took off and was back in a few minutes with the historian.

          “I have all the desk keys, let me see here,” Chase said as he rifled through a bunch of keys he had in his hand.  Soon he found the one he was looking for.

          “You’d better let me do that,” Booth told him.  “No telling what’s in the drawer,” Robert nodded and handed the key over.  The FBI agent stuck the key in the lock and turned it.  Then he pulled the drawer open and got a shock.

          “What the…” Booth didn’t finish the thought as he pointed to seven bullets lying loose in the bottom of the drawer.

          “How did those get in there?”  Brennan asked.    

**Brennan’s Office 11:30 am**

          Booth paced back and forth while Brennan sat at her desk watching him.  She was starting to get dizzy.

          “What are you doing?”  His partner asked.

          “This whole case makes no sense.  We have a guy murdered by a bullet then his body is stuffed into a torture device.  Then when we search his desk we find some of the missing bullets, which the FBI lab is running down to match caliber of the Smith and Wesson Hodgins found and for any possible fingerprints.  The question becomes how did the bullets get in there in the first place and why is it taking so long to get the warrant for Bryant’s apartment,” Booth said.

          “There has to be something we’re missing because Angela can’t find the dental records to confirm Thomas Bryant is our victim,” Brennan told him.

          “I just got the storage record for the iron maiden,” Cam announced as she entered the office.

          “And?”  Both partners asked at the same time.  The Head of Forensics raised an eyebrow before continuing.

          “The artifact was moved from Medieval and Renaissance under the order of guess who?” 

          “Thomas Bryant,” Booth said.

          “Exactly.  He was the one that found the maiden in the wrong storage room,” Dr. Saroyan told them.

          “I think we’d better have the lab techs come down here and check the Medieval and Renaissance storage room for blood.  That could be our primary crime scene,” Booth let them know.  That’s when a man and a woman dressed in suits came into Brennan’s office.

          “Excuse me but this is my office and who are you?”  The forensic anthropologist asked.

          “We need to speak to you and Agent Booth,” one of them said.

          “I don’t believe you answered my partner’s question.  Who are you?”  The G-man reminded them.

          “We’re U.S. Marshals,” came the reply.


	5. Chapter 5

**Brennan’s Office, Tuesday at 12:00 pm**

          “U.S. Marshals huh?  So what exactly is going on here?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “We heard that you found the body of a Jeffersonian worker inside an iron maiden and we believe that we may have a problem,” the male one answered.

          “What kind of problem?”  Brennan was confused.

          “The kind that involves a Federal Witness being murdered,” the female agent told them.

          “You think our dead guy is your witness, Agent…” Booth started.

          “Agent Jerry Lee and this is my partner Agent Nancy Barrett.  We placed Nathan Quick under the assumed name of Thomas Bryant hoping that when it came time for the trial, he’d still be alive,” Lee explained.

          “You thought he’d be safe in a government building full of security cameras and squints.  Well that would have worked but someone figured out your little plan,” the FBI agent shook his head.

          “This would explain why Angela couldn’t find his fingerprints or dental records in the system but not how whomever he was testifying found out,” the forensic anthropologist spoke up.

          “Quick was supposed to testify against Bernie Snyder.  He witnessed the robbery and murder at a convenience store down in the city.  Normally the local police wouldn’t go through such precautions until Quick received death threats in the mail.  Since someone who dealt with Bernie knew where Nathan lived, we had to make sure Quick would be safe,” Barrett filled in some more details.

          “Was this Bernie connected to the Mob or something?”  Booth asked.

          “No, to a street gang.  Bernie’s initiation was to knock off the convenience store.  Since he passed the test but left a witness, the gang wants to help him,” Lee said.

          “Why wouldn’t they just drop Snyder like a bad dream?  He’s causing more trouble for them than anything else,” the FBI agent thought the whole situation was a little odd.

          “That part we’re still trying to investigate.  It does seem like an awful lot of trouble,” Nancy told them.

          “So somehow one of the gang members knew exactly where to find your witness and happened to somehow managed to get into Quick’s desk.  They left their unused bullets there,” Booth told them.

          “Unused bullets?”  Jerry asked.

          “Hodgins found the nine millimeter pistol inside the iron maiden and then Booth and I found seven unused bullets inside Thomas Bryant’s desk,” Brennan explained.

          “If they were trying to make it look like a suicide, they didn’t do a very good job,” Barrett raised an eyebrow.

          “The angle at which the bullet penetrated the front of the skull makes suicide impossible.  We believe that the victim was shot in the Medieval and Renaissance storage room and then placed inside the iron maiden before it was moved to the eighteenth century storage room,” Brennan laid out her and her partner’s theory.

“Well we’ll run the known gang members and see if they have any connections to shipping companies or have any relatives working for the Jeffersonian,” the Marshals promised.

          “And our search warrant?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “You’ll have it in an hour,” Lee nodded before the partners left the office.  The FBI agent watched them go before turning to Cam and his partner.

          “Doesn’t that seem odd to you?  Wouldn’t Quick have to prove he knew enough to work at the Jeffersonian?”  He wondered.

          “Yes but if the Marshals doctored everything to let him in then they probably had someone tutoring him or something,” Cam suggested.

          “True but he would have to have some knowledge on his own.  There would be too much for him to have to memorize,” Brennan pointed out.

          “All right, I’ll have Charlie run a background check on our victim and get the lab techs down here to look at the Medieval storage room.  Then we’ll have to wait for the warrant,” the G-man nodded.

**Heading for Thomas Bryant’s Apartment 1:30 pm**  

          Booth pulled the government-issued SUV out of its Jeffersonian parking space and heading for the road.  The search warrant had come through and he and Brennan were heading over to execute it. 

          “I know this isn’t exactly the perfect environment to bring this up but we need to talk,” she said.

          “I thought we’d established that earlier,” Booth chuckled.

          “Yes we did but I think this is probably the only place we won’t get interrupted during work hours,” Brennan made a valid point.

          “True, I…” her partner paused in mid-sentence as he continued to press down on the pedal which went completely to the floorboards.  Underneath the car, brake fluid squirted out of the lines, never making it to their destination. 

          “What is it?”  She asked.

          “The brakes aren’t working,” he told her.  Brennan looked up and realized the light had turned red then she looked over at the speedometer.  She saw that at their current speed, the SUV would not slow down on its own.  Booth reached over and quickly flicked on the siren hoping that people would clear the intersection.

          Heading down the cross street, Michelle Grant and her mother Susan were going for their weekly summer lunch treat.  Susan was happy to see the light had turned green on her side and did not ease off the gas since there wasn’t any traffic in front of her.  Michelle talked on about what she and her friend Kayleigh were going to do on Friday and her mother didn’t hear the siren.  The next thing they knew, the minivan slammed into a black SUV crossing the intersection.

          Booth awoke with his head against the car window and a screaming headache.  He could feel blood running down his temple but his first thoughts were about his partner.  He turned his head to see Brennan unconscious and blood running down her temple as well.  That’s when he saw the minivan not far from the SUV.  The impact had shot the government issued vehicle across the intersection.  His radio crackled and he was about to try to call for help when someone yanked his door open.

          “You all right mister?”  A man asked.

          “I’ll be fine but we have to get my partner out,” Booth tried to stress to the Good Samaritan. 

          “We’ll try but the professionals are on their way,” the man said.  It was then that Booth heard the familiar sound of emergency vehicles.  Again he turned to Brennan, she was still out but now he tried hard to focus his mind and his eyes.  The back seat was completely smashed in and part of Brennan’s door was damaged but he couldn’t see the piece of metal that was stuck into her side.

          “Mmmhumm,” Brennan mumbled.

          “Temperance, help is on the way.  Hang on please,” he pleaded.


	6. Chapter 6

**George Washington University Hospital, Tuesday at 3:00 pm**

          Booth sat near the near the nurses’ desk, anxious to hear any news about his partner.  He’d been looked at by the paramedics on the scene and they managed to clean him up and assess what kind of treatment he needed.  They had been adamant about sending him to another hospital since his injuries were nowhere near life threatening but he’d pulled out his FBI badge and promised to have them all arrested if they refused to let him go to GWU with Brennan. 

          He’d seen what the paramedics had to deal with as they tried to stop the bleeding in Brennan’s side.  She had passed in and out of consciousness during the ride, partially due to her head injury and the loss of blood.  Booth couldn’t get the picture out of his head.  Blood oozing from a wound he once again couldn’t prevent.  Visions of when Brennan had been shot by the psycho Bernard Mantelli flashed in front him.

          “Sir, Dr. Brennan is out of surgery,” a nurse came over to him.  He silently thanked her for the interruption and for the good news.

          “How is she?”  He asked.

          “Well the doctors said she was very lucky.  The piece of metal didn’t go in as deep as they thought and just missed the baby,” at the last words, Booth’s eyes went wide.  Did she just say what he thought she said?  The look on the nurse’s face upon seeing the reaction made her regret saying anything.  She didn’t know about their relationship and had just assumed he was her next of kin since he’d forced his way onto the ambulance.

          “When can I see her?”  The FBI agent wanted to know.

          “Right now; she may still be out from the surgery but she should come around soon,” the nurse smiled and he thanked her before heading over to the room that she had pointed out down the hall.  Booth couldn’t believe that Brennan had neglected to tell him the news and hearing it from the emergency room nurse wasn’t exactly the way he’d wanted to find out.  Although they had begun to talk in the SUV and she was probably going to tell him before the accident.

          Entering the room, he saw that Brennan’s eyes were still closed and he sat down in the seat next to her.  His mind was trying to process his thoughts when he heard her stir.

          “Seeley,” his name came barely above a whisper but he quickly turned to her.

          “I’m right here,” her partner promised her.

          “What happened?” she wondered as her voice became stronger and everything around her came more into focus.

          “We were in a car accident, you just came out of surgery,” Booth told her.

          “How bad is it?”  Brennan asked.  Her partner smiled and said,

          “You’re going to be fine but I have to admit I was a little surprised when I talked to the nurse.”

          “Why?  What did she say?”  The forensic anthropologist tensed up.  He was about to answer her when Angela came into the room.

          “Oh sweetie, I got here as soon as I could.  I had to let your dad know,” she explained.

          “Why does he have to know?”  Brennan asked, upset that her father had been talked to.  They were still not talking despite the way things had later developed and it looked as though he’d be cleared of the charges.

          “He’s your father and I’m not getting into that argument again with you.  Now I’m going to talk with the doctors and see how long you have to be here,” her friend was upset by her behavior and left the room.

          “That wasn’t very nice, you know.  Angela was trying to do the right thing,” Booth said.  Brennan tried to heave a sigh but soon realized that that wasn’t such a good idea.  She winced and her partner took her hand. 

          “Take it easy, little breaths.  You don’t want to pull your stitches,” he smiled at her.  She smiled slightly and took a look into his chocolate eyes.  There was something in them that made it obvious he was holding back about something. 

          “What did the nurse tell you?”  Brennan got right to the point.

          “Temperance, you’re pregnant.  You’re making me a daddy again,” Booth smiled.  He wasn’t sure how she was going to react.  _She had stated her feelings early on about not having children but after spending time with Parker…_   His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his partner sobbing.

          “What’s wrong?”  The FBI agent asked, slightly afraid of the answer he might get as he took her hand in his.

          “I was trying to tell you in the car but I didn’t know how to say it and then we got in the accident and I…” she didn’t finish.

          “Are you unhappy?”  He wondered.

          “Yes,” came the one word reply.  This answer made Booth grow sad.  _After everything we’ve been through and how much I thought we loved each other and she…_

          “I went to the doctor’s the other day when I said I was having lunch with Angela.  He told me they would run some tests and get back to me.  I had been trying to discuss this with Angela as to what the best approach to tell you would be.  Now I haven’t heard back from the doctor yet but it’s obvious that that doesn’t matter anymore,” Brennan had begun to ramble a bit.

          “So you’re happy about being pregnant?”  He gave her a confused look as he wiped some of her tears away.

          “Yes I’m happy about being pregnant.  I’m unhappy about not being the one to tell you,” she looked a little disappointed.

          “After spending so much time with Parker and enjoying almost every minute of it, I found myself in a quandary.  But I realized how much I love you and I know you wanted to have more children, so this seemed to be…” she would have finished had her lips not been occupied at the moment.  Booth had stood up and leaned over, pressing his lips to hers.  When they parted, she looked at him.  His face was slightly bruised and butterfly bandages covered the cut in his forehead but the love in his eyes was unmistakable.  A knock on the door interrupted their moment and both turned their attention to the person standing there.

          “Agent Booth can I have a word?”  It was Cullen.

          “Yes, sir,” the agent gave Brennan a nod and then headed out into the hallway.  Angela slipped into the room as he left.

          “I know your partner just got out of surgery but I need you to focus on what occurred this afternoon.  We’ve towed what was left of your vehicle back to the lab and they’re examining it right now.  Was there something you did out of the ordinary this morning?”  His boss asked.

          “No, I drove to the Jeffersonian after Bones called me with some evidence that Zach had discovered.  Then Angela gave us an ID and we went to the department in which our vic worked.  We searched his desk and found seven bullets from the magazine of the weapon that killed the victim.  When we returned to her office, there were two U.S. Marshals there.  We talked to them and then headed to Nathan Quick’s apartment,” Booth explained.

          “I received a call from the Marshals and they appraised me of the situation.  I told them of your accident and they have surveillance on the apartment,” Cullen said. 

          “So they think the brakes were tampered with,” the G-man nodded.

          “Yes.  If someone got to the victim despite being in Witness Protection it wouldn’t be much of a leap to tamper with the brakes of your SUV,” his superior made the suggestion.

          “Makes sense; is the lab checking out the security tapes in the Jeffersonian’s parking garage?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “As we speak a lab tech is watching them and trying to pick some thing.  Meantime I’m giving both you and Dr. Brennan a security detail,” the Deputy Director told him fully expecting him to object. 

          “Bones will be here for at least a few days, so I don’t see the harm in posting guards outside the door but when she gets out of here, she won’t go for it,” her partner shook his head.

          “We’ll deal with that when it comes.  Now as for you…” this time Booth didn’t let his boss finish.

          “I’m going to spend the night with Bones.  She’s a little shook up and I know she’s going to fight me about the police being outside the door,”

          “Understandable but what about tomorrow?”  Cullen hoped his was getting through to his agent.

          “You’ll put protection outside my apartment whether I want some or not, right?”  Booth smirked.

          “You got that right,” Cullen smiled.  The agent nodded and then left his boss to head into Brennan’s room to explain everything.


	7. Chapter 7

**George Washington University Hospital, Wednesday at 7:00 am**  

                A knock on the door of Brennan's hospital room woke Booth.  He had spent the night curled up in the chair next to his partner's bed and he now had a nasty crick in his neck.  Looking to Temperance he saw she was already awake and she smiled.  Then one of the nurses from the station down the hall entered the room to check on the forensic anthropologist.

          "Morning you two; how are you?"  The friendly woman asked as she came over with Brennan's medication.

          "A little stiff, this chair wasn't the best place to sleep.  I have some phone calls to make, would you two excuse me?"  He inquired, taking note of the nurse's nametag.

          "Of course," Brennan nodded and the FBI agent smiled before heading out the door.  He nodded to the two police officers stationed outside the door, who were there much to his partner's chagrin, and continued toward the elevator.  Cell phone calls weren't allowed in the hospital and the head nurse had made it quite clear that there would be no exceptions last night so now he headed outside.

          The morning air was cool considering the recent heat wave and Booth rubbed his arms before grabbing his cell phone out of his pocket.  He poked the speed dial for Cullen.

          "Hello?"  His boss asked.

          "Sir, its Agent Booth."

          "Good morning but I'm afraid the lab won't be done with your vehicle until around noon," Cullen told him.

          "Understandable, but what about the people who hit us?"  Booth wondered.

          "I was told late last night they were treated and released.  The little girl received lacerations and bruises from the airbag.  Her mother had that too along with a broken elbow from the way she was holding the steering wheel at the time of impact.  Thank God for the crumple zone on her minivan," his superior explained.

          "Yes sir," Booth agreed with the last statement.

          "When this case is over, we have to have a long talk, Seeley," Cullen said.  _Uh oh_ , the FBI agent thought to himself.

          "What about sir?"  He asked hoping he didn't already know the answer.

          "Your involvement with your partner.  The nurse let it slip that she was pregnant and after your insistence on staying with your partner, who doesn't rattle easy, I put two and two together," the Deputy Director let him know.  Booth cringed as he answered.

          "Yes sir,"

          "Now I suggest you head into the office and get on the lab techs to finish sifting through your SUV," Cullen's voice was now stern.

          "Yes sir," came Booth's response once again before he heard his boss hang up.  He swore under his breath and headed back inside to deliver the bad news to Brennan.

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab 8:30 am**

                Hodgins stood as his station trying to focus on the bullets found in the victim's desk drawer.  The FBI lab hadn’t found any fingerprints but the entomologist was hoping for some other kind of trace.  He, Angela, Zach, and Cam had spent a long time at the hospital and running on a lack of sleep was slowing him down.  However thoughts of the closeness he witnessed between Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth were fueling his newly formed theory. 

          "Do you have anything?"  Zach asked.

          "No.  According to the FBI whoever put the bullets in the drawer wiped them off or used gloves.  The drawer came up empty as well, just Nathan Quick's fingerprints on it.  As far as particulates, nothing," the entomologist said.

          "Then I guess that makes me King of the Lab," Dr. Addy smirked.

          "What?  Since when?  The body has already been examined by both you and Dr. Brennan," Hodgins gave him a skeptical look.

          "Angela helped me actually so does that make her Queen of the Lab?"  The young man asked.  Another look came from Hodgins but this one wasn't so friendly.

          "The angle of the shot suggests that the victim wasn't standing upright when the bullet entered his frontal bone.  The FBI lab techs found cleaned up blood pools in the Medieval and Renaissance storage room suggesting he was lying down.  Using the Angelator, I reconstructed the scene and it suggests that the victim would have had to be unconscious at the time.  The shooter was standing over him when he fired," Zach smiled proudly.

          "But you haven't figured out how the weapon was silenced.  Someone would have heard that shot," Hodgins pointed out.

          "You and Angela have intercourse in the Egyptian storage room and no one hears you," the young forensic anthropologist stated.  At this comment, the entomologist was about to lose it but luckily his brain processed what Zach had said before lashing out.  Granted Angela wasn't a screamer but lovemaking isn't exactly quiet either.

          "I have an idea," Hodgins smiled.  He left his working space and headed for security.  Zach wasn't sure what he was doing but he quickly followed after him.

**Hoover Building 10:00 am**

          Booth sat his desk trying to clear his thoughts.  He had told Brennan what Cullen had said and her reaction had been surprising.  Instead of being upset, she rationalized that eventually they would have had to admit their relationship.  Soon her pregnancy would start to show and there was no way to hide it anymore.  Especially since the rest of the world thought she was single with the exception of Angela.  His cell phone rang and this brought him out of his reverie.

          "Booth," he answered.

          "It's Hodgins.  I found something you're going to want to see," the entomologist said.

          "I'll be right there," Booth told him.  The FBI agent hung up on Jack and stood from his chair.  Grabbing his suit coat, he headed for his office door when Steve Dearborn, one of the lab techs, knocked on his door.

          "I'm done analyzing the Jeffersonian's parking garage videos.  Other than seeing a head under the SUV, there is nothing.  The guy must have known where the cameras were," Dearborn said.

          "There was a head under the car?"  Booth asked.

          "Yes, seemed as though they were finding your braking system very interesting," Steve told him.

          "How'd he avoid the cameras?"  The FBI agent couldn't believe it.

          "Our perp wore a hooded sweatshirt and covered his face with it and some sunglasses so he could walk to your SUV.  Then he crawled underneath the vehicle played with the brakes and went back out the way he came.  The guys should have the SUV taken apart and scrutinized in an hour and a half," the forensic lab technician explained. 

          "Thanks.  Have them call my cell.  Hodgins just got something I have to see at the Jeffersonian," Booth said.

          "Will do," Steve smiled and left with the G-man close behind.  


	8. Chapter 8

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab Wednesday at 11:00 am**

          “What do you have for me Hodgins?  And why are we meeting in Angela’s office?”  Booth asked as he entered the forensic artist’s place of work.

        “I took a look at the security tapes in the Medieval and Renaissance storage room and look what I found,” the entomologist could barely contain his excitement as Angela played the video.  The victim was inspecting the iron maiden when suddenly he fell down.  Angela switched to a different camera view and got a glimpse of the man Booth recognized from the parking garage.

          “That’s the guy who tampered with my brakes,” he told them.

          “Wait it gets better,” Hodgins said, almost giddy.  The brake-tamperer rolled Nathan Quick onto his back.  It became apparent that he was pleading for his life.  Here Angela again switched camera views.

          “Is that what I think it is?”  The FBI asked.

          “If you’re thinking it is a _Homo sapien_ then yes, that’s what that is,” Zach gave a smart answer which Booth only rolled his eyes to.

          “There were two men in the storage unit.  One wearing a uniform from a shipping company with a baseball hat and the other must have been his accomplice who snuck along for a ride.  These guys knew about the cameras and made every attempt to hide their faces but not the weapon,” Angela spoke up as the image showed the bullet entering the victim’s forehead.  Then the two men opened the iron maiden and stuffed the body in. 

          “While the body was still fresh, it bled all over the inside of the torture device.  Explains why decomp was sped up.  Nathan Quick was stewing in his own juices for at least a week in a room kept at a constant seventy-five degrees with low humidity.  It’s too bad we only have one view of the weapon.  That could lead to what they used to silence the gun but with nothing found with the remains, it’ll be difficult to prove,” Cam explained.

          “Not if you can clean up these images.  See if you can get a face for either one of these guys, while you’re at try to clean the weapon image up too,” Booth told them as his cell phone rang.  He quickly picked it up and answered,

          “Booth,” there wasn’t much of a conversation as he hung up a few moments later.

          “I have to head back over to the FBI lab, they’re done with my SUV,” the G-man said.

          “That still leaves one unanswered question,” Hodgins told him as he started to head for the door.

          “Just one?”  Booth raised an eyebrow.

          “How did the killers get the unused bullets in the victim’s desk drawer without anyone seeing them?”  The entomologist wondered.

          “Hey that’s why you’re the squints.  Look at more video tape,” The FBI agent flashed them a smiled before exiting the office.

**Hoover Building 12:35 pm**  

          “Please tell me something I don’t already know,” Booth pleaded with the lab tech, Andrea, as he approached his damaged ride. 

          “Well since I don’t know what you know that might be difficult,” she giggled slightly and then walked over to a lab station set up near the SUV.  The FBI agent followed hoping he was going to get something good.

          “I pulled the brake system apart and found an interesting thing,” Andrea said and showed him a piece of brake line.  “There is a hole here that wouldn’t ordinarily cause you to leak brake fluid at an incredible rate,” she continued.  Booth took the piece in his hand and looked at it.  He noticed the hole that couldn’t have been more than a quarter of an inch in diameter. 

          “So how exactly does this work then?  I mean if that tiny hole didn’t cause my brakes to fail what did?”  He asked, slightly confused.

          “These,” the lab tech said simply as she handed over another piece of the brake line.  Here there were at least ten more of those small holes and one was ripping.  “This guy made Swiss cheese out of your brake line and then made sure that one of the holes had a tear and was going to get bigger,” Andrea finished.

          “Any fingerprints on the line?”  Booth wondered.

          “No such luck.  The surface area of the brake line is small.  I have a bunch of smudges but nothing decent enough to piece together a print.  Even if I could get something it might come back to the mechanic that fixes all FBI issued vehicles,” the red haired woman explained.

          “Peachy.  Anything else?”  He inquired. 

          “Sorry, nothing of use, I’m afraid,” she shrugged her shoulders.  Booth rolled his eyes.  These crooks were good, too good for a bunch of gang members, in fact. 

          “Thanks,” he smiled and then headed out to the loaner car that Cullen had assigned to him.  The paperwork for a completely new SUV would not be allowed for processing until the case was solved.  Picking up his cell phone, Booth dialed the number for U.S. Marshal Jerry Lee.  Something big was really going on here and he hoped the Marshal had uncovered anything that would link any of the gang members to shipping companies or the Jeffersonian.  There was no answer and he left a message.  Then he turned the key in the ignition and headed back to the hospital.

**George Washington University Hospital 1:55 pm**  

          The G-man walked down the hallway until he came to the room with two police officers standing outside the doorway.

          “Afternoon fellas,” he nodded before entering Brennan’s room.

          “We have to talk,” were the first words out of his partner’s mouth.

          “Well I missed you too Bones,” Booth said.  She ignored his sarcastic comment and continued.

          “Why are there armed guards outside my room?”

          “Cullen thought it was best for your protection.  We still have very little to go on and there is no telling if these guys will continue after you or me,” he explained.

          “We’ve been through worse, I don’t see why now would be so different,” Brennan told him.

          “Yes, that’s true but you weren’t pregnant then,” Booth made his point.  For a moment the forensic anthropologist was silent.

          “I’m going to have a talk with the head nurse.  That nurse that spoke to Cullen needs to be reminded what HIPAA means,” she started up again.

          “I agree but getting her fired isn’t going to help our situation.  We need to face Cullen when this is all over and we’ll have to live with the consequences.  Besides weren’t you the one that said earlier once your pregnancy started to show we’d have to tell him anyway?  It’s better that this happened now and not later,” her partner tried to reason with her.

          “You’re right,” Brennan answered.

          “Whoa did you just say I got something right?  You must really be sick,” Booth teased.

          “Just remember, I can still kick your ass,” she laughed.

          “Anytime Bones, anytime.”  The FBI agent smiled before he updated her on where the case stood.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab Thursday at 9:30 am**

          Angela Montenegro said in her office still fine tuning the security tapes hoping for something that would lead to a break in the case.  So far all she’d managed to do was to confirm that the man holding the gun was in fact wearing a delivery uniform.  The nametag was still unreadable and she had another computer working on the logo on the brown outfit.

          “Oy vey,” she muttered to herself as her eyes crossed again for the tenth time this morning.  The rendering software had been plugging away since yesterday afternoon and it aggravated her that the computer hadn’t finished.

          “How do you do it Angie?”  Hodgins asked as he was glued to different tapes sifting through them at a third computer in the forensic artist’s office.  He had hoped to find video of someone tossing the bullets into Nathan Quick’s desk.  There was no sign of forced entry into the desk so whoever did it had keys. 

          “Patience is a virtue but mine is wearing thin,” she smiled.

          “Yes well that isn’t the only thing you’re wearing thin,” he smirked.

          “Hey I warned you about the sheets before we started.  It’s not my fault you only have a limited supply of them.  Constant washing is definitely not good,” Angela couldn’t help but giggle.

          “What are you two doing in here?”  Booth asked as he entered the office belonging to the forensic artist.

          “You said to look through the videotapes, so that’s what we’re doing Special Agent man,” Angela answered.

          “That had better be all that you’re doing,” said Cam as she came in behind the G-man.

          “Give us a little credit,” Hodgins got all defensive.  Both Cam and Booth gave each other a look before pressing on.

          “Do you have anything?”  They both asked.

          “So far, zip, nada, squat, ni…” Angela froze mid-list as the computer to her right beeped loudly.  “I take it back,” she continued.

          “What do you have?”  Booth wanted to know. 

          “The computer finished rendering the image of the shipping company logo.  Guess what it matches?”  The forensic artist asked.

          “The company that handles all the Jeffersonian’s deliveries, ATW,” Cam answered.

          “Did someone say conspiracy?”  Hodgins spoke up.  Everyone looked at him knowing what he was going to do next.

          “ATW, or the Around the World shipping company, has connections everywhere.  Big notables are the Italian Mob and the Russian Mafia but no one realizes that they have gang connections here in the States,” the entomologist said.

“Why would a shipping company be involved in organized crime?”  Booth inquired, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Oh, the company owners per se aren’t involved; the branches just have a record of hiring ex-cons.  Here in the States, their main hires are quote un-quote ex-gang bangers.  Their main Italian branch in Rome has hired Mob men to run things; same goes for the Russians and the Mafia.  It’s a perfect way to get what they want through customs,” was Hodgins’ answer.  

“So if they stashed stuff in larger artifacts that have open compartments and then Nathan Quick caught them doing it…” Cam started.

“They’d kill him.  It would explain why they knew where the cameras were but it seems too risky.  Security guards are present at every delivery right?”  Booth asked.

“Yes, it’s procedure.  There’s no way the gang members would try to empty the artifacts with security all around,” Dr. Saroyan said. 

“Maybe that wasn’t their purpose at all.  Maybe when one of the gang members made a delivery, he recognized the man we knew as Thomas Bryant as in fact Nathan Quick.  He tells the others and who better than to scope out the Jeffersonian than a deliveryman?  No one would notice.  We get deliveries sometimes three times a week,” Angela spoke up.

“True but usually gangs aren’t so well organized.  When they want somebody whacked they wait until they’re at home or in their car.  Drive bys are much easier than scoping out security at a museum,” the FBI agent pointed out. 

“So what does that leave us?”  Hodgins asked.

          “There has to be someone else on the inside of the Jeffersonian.  The surveillance that was done was plotted very well down to the minute.  It would take months for someone to do it on their own but if they had a man on the inside…” Cam didn’t finish the thought.  

          “Angela, how long was Quick working here?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “According to his file, only a month and a half,” the forensic artist answered. 

          “That’s not enough time.  I’m going to head over to Nathan Quick’s apartment.  But first I’m calling the shipping company to see who they had on that day doing deliveries to the Jeffersonian,” Booth said before turning and leaving the room.

**Thomas Bryant/Nathan Quick’s Apartment 11:30 am**  

          The G-man opened the door to the apartment, which was on the third floor of a nice building in a good part of town.  Closing the door, he looked around the living room and kitchen, noticing how neat and orderly everything was. 

          “Just like his desk.  This guy must have had OCD or something,” Booth commented to himself.  He’d seen a lot of safe houses before and this one was just like them.  There were very few personal items around with no pictures of the family or a girlfriend.  Moving into the bathroom, the man had left most of his personal items in the travel kit, expecting to go home soon, wherever home was.  The bedroom was next and besides the bed, the half empty dresser, and clothes and a suitcase in the closet, there wasn’t much there. 

          “No wallet and we already know his keys are missing.  Who kills someone, takes their wallet and keys, but then dumps the body in an iron maiden where they know it is going to be found?  What made those items so important?” he wondered to himself.  Knowing he wasn’t going to find out much here, he left.  Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed Agent Jerry Lee again as he walked down the sidewalk towards his rental car.  This time he picked up.

          “Agent Lee,”

          “It’s Agent Booth.  Do you have anything yet?” 

          “I was just about to call you.  Nathan Quick’s keys and wallet were turned into the police, who called us.  They sent the items to us and we’re checking for fingerprints,” Lee explained.

          “Who found them?”  Booth asked.

          “A good Samaritan.  He was walking to a bus stop when he found the items under the bench at the stop.  The cash and credit cards are still in there.  As for the keys, the lab is checking what they belong to,” the U.S. Marshal said. 

          "Did you find anything about the gang being related to the shipping business?  Especially the company, ATW?"  The G-man wondered as he unlocked the car door.

          "The only connection we could find is that ATW is almost the only place that hires ex-cons.  I mean these guys go to peoples' houses and drop stuff off.  I don't know about you but that makes me nervous," Jerry told him.

          "Yeah, me too.  Let me know if you get something off the keys or wallet," Seeley said, plopping himself into the driver's seat and closing the car door. 

          "Will do; how's Dr. Brennan?"  Lee inquired. 

          "She's going to be fine; tomorrow morning she's leaving the hospital," Booth explained.

          "Excellent, well talk to you later," with that the conversation ended and the FBI agent headed back to the Jeffersonian.  


	10. Chapter 10

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab Thursday at 2:00 pm**  

          Booth paced back and forth inside Brennan’s office trying to think.  Who inside the Jeffersonian would associate themselves with gang bangers and have a witness in protective custody killed?  There were too many pieces not fitting into place that made the case even harder to comprehend.  If they didn’t get something soon, the case would be dead in the water.  Especially since his call to the shipping company was routed to the company lawyer, who wasn’t about to give him what he wanted, stating that even ex-cons have rights too.  A slight shouting match ensued before he threatened the lawyer with a search warrant.  Now he waited for his phone to ring, with confirmation of the judge’s order.  As if his phone read his mind, it rang.

          “Booth,” he answered.

          “Agent Lee, Booth.  I have something you might be interested in,” came the reply.

          “What?”  The FBI agent asked, slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t be rubbing the warrant in that lawyer’s face yet.

          “There were no useable prints on the wallet or keys but the interesting thing is what the keys open,” the U.S. Marshal said.

          “Besides his apartment and desk what could they open?”  Booth didn’t see where exactly Lee was dragging him.

          “One of the keys belongs to a padlock and the other a storage locker here in the D.C. area.  Now what do you suppose a man who before the convenience store incident could barely afford rent doing with a storage unit?”  Jerry wondered.

          “What’s the address of the shipping place?  I’ll meet you there if you bring the keys,” Booth wanted to know as he grabbed his notebook from his pocket.  He quickly wrote the address down, hung up the phone, and left the room. 

          “Booth!  You have to come see this!”  Hodgins shouted from across the lab as the FBI agent headed toward the exit.

          “I have to meet Agent Lee and his partner, can it wait?”  He asked as the entomologist came closer.

          “I know who the inside leak is,” Jack whispered.

          “Hide the evidence in Bones’ office until I get back.  Speak to no one about it.  I’ll bring the Marshals back with me,” Booth promised.

          “You got it,” Hodgins nodded and took off.

**U-Rent Storage Facility, Locker Number 17 3:00 pm**

          Marshals Lee and Barrett greeted Booth as he walked up to the locker.  The locker itself was a medium sized one at approximately ten feet by twenty feet whereas the larger ones further back in the lot were closer to twenty feet by twenty feet.

          “The owner says for a unit this size, it’s ninety dollars a month and he said that Quick only visited once a week.  But he also said that after hours, Quick could have swiped in through the back gate,” Nancy said.

          “That’s not entirely extravagant.  How poor did you say this guy was?”  The FBI agent questioned their reasoning. 

          “He was only bringing home around two hundred and thirty a week with his rent costing five hundred a month and the utilities separate on top of that…” Lee trailed off.

          “Point taken, I guess this guy didn’t eat much.  So shall we?”  Booth asked as he withdrew his service weapon.  Lee nodded as he too pulled his Glock from its holster and Nancy used the keys to open the padlock and unlock the door.  Grabbing the handle she flung it open before backing away to retrieve her weapon from its holster as well.  The three agents charged in and swept the container, which was full of boxes.

          “Clear!”  Booth announced from his side.

          “Clear here too,” Jerry called over.

          “For a guy who didn’t have much, he seemed to have a large amount of boxes,” Nancy commented.

          “I was thinking the same thing,” Booth raised an eyebrow as he looked at the box next to him.  “Hey who packs boxes but then doesn’t label them on the outside?”  He continued.

          “That’s a very good question,” Jerry said as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and opened the box closest to him.  Needless to say the Marshal got quite a shock.

          “Maybe our guy wasn’t so clean after all,” he told the other two as he lifted a nine-millimeter pistol out of the box.  “This whole box is full of them,” Jerry went on.  Booth and Barrett checked the boxes near them and discovered similar items.

          “I’ve got flash grenades in this one,” Nancy shook her head.

          “And this one is full of magazines to match those nine-mils you found,” the FBI agent said.

          “Where did he get all of these?”  Lee couldn’t believe it as he opened another box and found bulletproof vests. 

          “I have no idea,” his partner answered.  Booth didn’t respond as a bigger box caught his eye.  It was too big for any hand held weapon he knew of and his curiosity was soon rewarded when he opened the large crate.

          “Come take a look at this,” he called the other two over.     

          “Is that what I think it is?”  Nancy wondered.

          “If you’re thinking something that should belong in a museum, I’d say you’re right,” her partner replied.

          “It’s an iron maiden, just like the one we found our victim in,” Booth said.  He looked further into the room and saw many other larger crates toward the back of the storage unit.

          “How many more artifacts do you think are in here?”  Lee wondered.

          “Enough to keep the squints at the Jeffersonian authentication department very busy for at least the next three months,” Booth answered.

          “So what Quick was working for a gun dealer and someone inside the Jeffersonian?”  Nancy asked.

          “I’m calling CSU and the Jeffersonian to get some teams down here.  In the meantime, Hodgins found something all three of us have to see back at the lab,” the G-man told them.

          “All right, let’s do it,” Jerry nodded.  Booth made the two phone calls and then the three waited for the crime scene unit and Jeffersonian crews to arrive.

          “There are quite a few things that don’t make sense to me in this case but this has to be one of the biggest ones.  Who takes Nathan Quick’s keys and wallet only to return them without anything missing?  Especially since all this stuff is in here?”  Nancy asked.

          “They’re either dumb or they didn’t know what they had,” Booth said.

          “What if they took the keys they thought they needed and then told someone to get rid of the remaining evidence?”  Lee wondered.

          “Then we’d better get a surveillance team over here and hope we can catch whoever comes to the locker.  It won’t be dark for at least five more hours, we could have the teams empty the locker and then if someone shows up here at night, they’ll be sorely disappointed,” Nancy suggested.

          “Especially if they grabbed the wrong keys,” Booth said.  At this all three couldn’t help but laugh. 

          “Sometimes you think these guys have it all figured out and then they do stupid stuff,” Agent Lee shook his head.

          “I think that whoever is the inside guy at the Jeffersonian is smart and knows exactly what to do while our gang bangers make mistakes on their own,” the FBI agent rubbed his neck.

          “Communication in a gang can be tough with so many members so somewhere it has to break down.  As for this evidence at the lab do you have it secure?”  Barrett wanted to know.

          “Hodgins has it in a safe place.  He and Angela have been sifting through video tape for a long time and I bet whatever is on that specific tape will blow the case wide open,” Booth was confident in his answer.  The Squint Squad had proven themselves time and again and without Bones with him, he felt as though someone had to back them up.  It was only about ten more minutes before the CSU team arrived along with some other agents.  Booth gave his instructions and the three headed for the Jeffersonian.   


	11. Chapter 11

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab Thursday at 4:45 pm**  

          Booth brought both U.S. Marshals into Brennan’s office, where the entire Squint Squad was waiting for them.  The FBI agent noticed how nervous they seemed to be and hoped nothing had gone missing while he was gone.

          “Are you going to show us the tape or are you going to tell me why Cam doesn’t have any nails left?”  Booth tried to break the tension.  Hodgins nodded to Angela, who got up and closed all the curtains in the room and locked the door.  The entomologist booted up the computer and input the DVD that he’d made.  Upon opening the file he turned the screen so everyone could see.  It was then that Booth’s phone rang.  The entire group gave him a dirty look and he quickly opened the phone.  After announcing who he was, there was a brief conversation and he thanked the caller before hanging up.

          “Anything important?”  Cam asked.

          “The search warrant was issued for the delivery company’s records.  Cullen has CSU combing the offices, so we’ll know who was on the crew the day of the delivery,” the FBI agent explained.  She nodded and indicated to Hodgins that he should continue.  The video played for a few minutes showing the general area surrounding the cubicles and workstations in the Medieval and Renaissance section.  People coming and going but nothing spectacularly out of the ordinary, that is until a gray haired man about five foot seven walked into view.  He then proceeded to Thomas Bryant’s desk and opened the middle drawer.

          “I’d say someone was invading his personal private work space,” Hodgins smirked.

          “If that’s all you got…” Booth started before the DVD revealed the reason for the invasion of space. 

          “He put a handful of things into the middle drawer.  What are they?”  Agent Barrett wondered.

          “Unused bullets,” Hodgins continued to smirk.

          “Do you have proof?”  Agent Lee wanted to know.  Angela got up from her seat on the other side of Brennan’s desk and flicked the lights on.  Zach pulled out a folder and handed it to the three Federal agents. 

          “Blown up images from the image enhancement software show exactly what they are,” he said proudly.

          “So why does he tell the gang where to look out for the cameras and then full well moves into the light of sight himself?”  Jerry asked.

          “That’s a very good question.  One I’m sure Dr. Robert Chase would love to answer,” Booth said.  He quickly went to the door and flung it open.  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where he was going and Cam quickly called building security to the historian’s office.

**FBI Headquarters, Interrogation Room 1, 6:00 pm**  

          Dr. Robert Chase sat inside the windowless room, nervously rubbing his hands.  He’d refused to speak at the Jeffersonian and again when he was placed in hand cuffs and dragged to the Hoover building.  Booth paced quickly back and forth in the room just outside Interrogation.  He knew that this man was responsible for the SUV accident and it was taking all his will power to not go in there and show the doctor the meaning of pain. 

          “What’s going on Booth?”  The familiar voice of his boss alerted him to the man’s presence in the doorway.

          “He refuses to speak.  He doesn’t want a lawyer but he won’t tell me anything,” frustration evident in the agent’s voice.

          “Have you let the Marshals question him?”  Cullen wondered.

          “He wouldn’t speak to them either.  They got a call from their office and they had to head back over there,” Booth explained.

          “Then let me give it a shot.  From one old man to another,” the Deputy Director gave the agent a wink and headed into the room.  The G-man just shrugged and he turned his attention to what was going on in the room.

          “Dr. Chase, my name is Deputy Director Cullen.  I understand you won’t speak to Agent Booth or Marshals Lee and Barrett.  Now why is that?”  It was a simple enough question and hopefully it would loosen the historian’s tongue.

          “Loose lips sink ships you know.  They can get people killed,” Chase told him.

          “Well the way I see it, we all die anyway, so why not enlighten me?”  Cullen inquired.

          “No.  Just as I told the others before you, I will not speak,” the man was being stubborn. 

          “We already know that you’re the one that put the unused bullets into Nathan Quick’s desk and I’m willing to bet that all those artifacts in the storage unit Booth found came from you too,” the Deputy Director said.

          “I’m not saying anything,” Chase refused to answer.

          “Then do you want a lawyer because it’s going to be a long night,” Cullen was nonchalant about the whole thing.  “I get to go home when I’m done, so it doesn’t matter to me how long you sit here,” he continued.  The Jeffersonian worker eyed the man sitting across from him.  Booth watched from the other side of the one-way glass trying to figure out what was going to happen next.

          “You know at our age, we need to go home to that old mattress and our comfy chair in the living room, just to get some sleep.  I can’t imagine you sleeping much in prison,” Cullen commented breaking the silence that had filled the room.  That last word seemed to make Chase sit up and pay attention.

          “If I tell you anything they’re dead,”

          “Who’s dead?”  The Deputy Director pressed.

          “My granddaughters,” were the only two words that escaped the doctor’s lips.

          “Someone has your granddaughters and you’re going to sit here and not let me help you?  I don’t get granddaughters because my daughter…” he paused.

          “It’s bad enough you already have me in custody.  If they find out where I am Susie and Brenda are dead,” the historian shook his head.

          “And if you don’t tell me everything, guess who they’re going to come after next?  Do you really think prison will be safe for you?”  Cullen questioned his reasoning.  Chase let out a sigh and put his head in his hands.  Booth couldn’t believe what was happening.

          “Just after Thomas started at the Jeffersonian, I was approached by two men.  They called themselves Shorty and Big Time.  They told me to help them out or my granddaughters would end up like a man they were looking for, Nathan Quick, dead.  I said I didn’t know Nathan Quick and then they showed me a picture on a cell phone of Thomas.  I agreed to help them and they said if I did as I was told then they’d let me live,” the Jeffersonian employee told him.

          “What did they want you to do?”  Cullen asked.

          “They wanted me to not let security know about a few deliveries they were going to make to the museum and that I should tell them where all the cameras were inside the shipping areas, parking lots, and parking garages,” Chase explained.

          “Was that it?”  The Deputy Director wanted to know.

          “At first.  Then later they asked me to look at some artifacts.  I told them that whoever had these didn’t realize how good fakes they were,” Chase said.

          “So some of the artifacts in the Jeffersonian are really replicas?  Did you know about the guns, vests, and grenades?”  Cullen continued to hound him with questions.

          “Yes there are fakes and no I didn’t know about the weapons,” the historian answered. 

          “What about the unused bullets?”  The Deputy Director asked.

          “It was my only way of getting attention.  Shorty walked into my office holding a package and he handed it to me.  Told me to not open it if I knew what was good for me.  I waited until he left and then I opened the small box.  I found the bullets inside; from there I went and put them inside the drawer in Thomas’ desk.  I only found out that they were inside the gun that killed him when Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth came by my office,” Chase finished.

          “We’ll get your granddaughters back, I’m going to let you go but you’re going to be wearing a wire and a tracking device,” Cullen told him.  The Jeffersonian worker let out a sigh and the Deputy Director headed out of the room to meet up with Booth.

          “We don’t have much time if what he says is true.  The gang is going to find out that he’s missing and whoever they send to the storage locker is going to go missing as well,” the agent said.

          “Call up surveillance.  Tell them to not make any arrests.  I want whoever shows up at the locker tailed.  They could lead us to the girls.  Meantime, get on those names, Shorty and Big Time and see if they have a record.  I’ll take care of releasing Chase,” Cullen ordered.  Booth nodded and whipped out his cell phone to make some calls.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab Friday at 10:00 am**  

          Angela walked with Brennan until they reached the forensic anthropologist’s office and the couch inside.  They had barely spoken a word to each other after the forensic artist delivered the news.

          “What was his excuse again?”  Brennan asked her friend.

          “He said that the case had taken a serious turn and he couldn’t get away to pick you up,” Angela refreshed her memory.  She looked at her friend and saw that there was a mixture of feelings behind those blue eyes.

          “Sweetie, are you all right?”  Angela wanted to know.  The forensic anthropologist’s eyes steeled themselves as she gave her answer.

          “I’m fine, just tired,”

          “We really have to work on your lying, you’re not very good at it.  Although I have to admit that was a good attempt,” Miss Montenegro smiled.  Brennan let out a small sigh and turned to her friend.

          “The truth is…”

**Hoover Building, 10:00 am**

          Booth sat at his desk cursing at his computer.  He had wanted to be the one to pick Bones up from the hospital but he knew that his duty lie with the case first, although he was pretty sure he was in for a butt-whooping when he finally got to talk to Temperance. 

          “Did you get the information I asked for?”  Cullen walked into the office without knocking.

          “Yes sir, I was about to bring it over to you,” Booth answered as he handed over two files.

“Shorty a.k.a Donovan Hinkle has been arrested twice for drug possession and there is a carrying a concealed weapon charge still pending.  Big Time a.k.a Dwayne Stillman was convicted of attempted murder charges and just released six months ago.  Both addresses that were given turned out to be fake.  I have local PD trying to locate them, ” the FBI agent summed up the reports.

“Good to see they keep their noses clean,” the sarcasm evident in his boss’s voice.  “Any word from the surveillance team or Dr. Chase and has PD been brought up to speed?”

“Surveillance caught two men entering the storage place just after midnight but they didn’t go to the locker we were hoping for.  As for Dr. Chase there has been nothing yet sir.  It’s hard to tell if his cover was blown.  I brought the police up to speed myself, sir, this morning,” Booth said.

“Keep me posted.  I want to know the instant you have something,” Cullen told him before heading back to his own office.

“Yes, sir,” the G-man nodded and sat back down in his chair.  He hoped that something would break in the case soon or otherwise those two young girls would be in serious trouble if they weren’t already.  The distinct ringer on his cell phone went off and he quickly answered it.

“Booth,”

“I got a call from your boss that Dr. Chase will be entering Witness Protection after the case is over.  Isn’t he the leak?” Agent Jerry Lee asked.

“He told us the gang has his granddaughters and that’s why he appeared to be the leak,” Booth explained.

“Well we might have a bigger problem on our hands than we expected.  Your office sent over a copy of the work schedule that you got from the search warrant last night,” Lee told him.

“What’s wrong?  All I saw was that Shorty and Big Time were on the schedule for another day and not the Jeffersonian delivery,” the FBI agent wanted to know. 

“I did some digging into our local ATW branch and it turns out the head honcho there isn’t an ex-gang banger.  In fact it’s run by a guy by the name Stan Lucci,” the U.S. Marshal said.

“Stan Lucci?  Who is that?”  Booth raised his right eyebrow despite Jerry being unable to see it.

“A low level Mob guy who has decided to go into business for himself.  From what I read he’s a collector.  Arrested for stealing art and suspected of smuggling things into the country,” Lee filled in.

“So the gun and weapons are for the ex-gang members and the artifacts are for himself.  Explains the lack of continuity in the group’s behavior.  The gang members do things the way they know best and he tells them how to get his precious museum pieces.  What better way than to have a Jeffersonian worker authenticate the relics,” the FBI agent shook his head.

“Exactly, how much you want to bet someone has ants in their pants and is going to that storage locker within the next twelve hours?”  Jerry wondered.     

“You’re right, I just hope those girls have that long.  Thanks for the info, I’ll call you if I get anything new,” Booth promised.  The call ended and he slumped back into his office chair.  Cullen would want to hear this.  Quickly he picked up his desk phone and called his boss’s secretary.

**U-Rent Storage Facility, Locker Number 17 12:00 pm**  

          Agent Tom Fern and Agent Valerie Waters sat in their SUV, watching the storage locker, bored out of their minds.  To say surveillance was an exciting job would be a boldfaced lie. 

          “How long have we been sitting here?”  He asked.

          “Too long,” she answered.  Tom just nodded and looked out the window again.  Watching the storage lockers was like watching paint dry, painful.

          “What was so important about this locker anyway?” he wondered.

          “Something about smuggling weapons and museum artifacts,” Valerie told him.

          “So should we be expecting anyone in particular?”  Tom asked another question.

          “From what I was told, they didn’t know who would be there.  The crooks erratic behavior has them for a loop,” she responded.  The radio then crackled to life.

          “Alpha Tango twenty do you copy?”

          “Alpha Tango twenty, we copy,” Fern picked up the radio.

          “Be on the lookout for a forty year old white man approximately five foot nine, weighing two hundred and twenty five pounds with dark hair and a moustache.  Goes by the name Stan Lucci,” the radio operator replied.

          “Anything identifying marks we should be keeping an eye out for, base?” Tom inquired.

          “Negative, Alpha Tango twenty.  Other suspects are two black males, one six foot, the other five foot ten.  Both are aged twenty-seven and have dark hair.  One weighs two hundred and fifty pounds, the other one hundred and sixty five pounds.  Their street names are Shorty and Big Time.  That is all for now,” the base responded.

          “Copy that base, Alpha Tango twenty out,” Fern ended the radio conversation.

          “Well at least now we have something to look for,” Valerie shrugged.

          “By my guess that call didn’t come in too soon.  Look what we have here,” Tom pointed out.

          “Would you say that’s a forty year old white guy with dark hair and a moustache?” Waters asked.

          “Only if he weighs two twenty five and is a little shorter than me,” her partner commented.  The two watched him approach the locker and try to unlock it.  The man obviously became upset when the padlock wouldn’t open.

          “The idiot has the wrong keys,” Valerie shook her head.

          “Well he’s the guy we want to tail.  Call the base back and tell them the good news,” he said. 


	13. Chapter 13

**The Streets of Washington D.C. Friday at 12:30 pm**  

          “Do you think he knows we’re following him?”  Valerie asked.

          “His driving does seem erratic but that could be how he drives normally,” her partner shrugged as he kept his eyes on the road and the vehicle they were tailing.

          “Base to Alpha Tango twenty, do you copy?”  The radio came to life again.

          “Alpha Tango twenty copy,” Valerie answered.

          “We have multiple cars standing by for back up.  Inform us of your position,” the dispatcher ordered.

          “We’re south on Twelfth Street heading toward the Three Ninety-Five,” Waters spoke over the communication device.

          “I hope he doesn’t get on the Three Ninety-Five, there’s no way I could track him for long then,” Tom shook his head.

          “Looks like he was listening to you, he just passed his last chance to turn and meet up now, he has to be heading for Maine Avenue,” his partner replied.  The two agents continued to follow him as Stun Lucci turned up Third Street and then hooked a right onto a small road called L Street.  It was a short little road with not much on it but a few homes.  They watched him pull into the driveway of the third one and get out of the car.  The two pulled over near the second house and radioed in.

          “We’ve got him at number three L Street.  He got out of the car and headed into the house.  Please advise,” Tom had picked up the radio this time.

          “Sit tight, units are on their way, ETA fifteen minutes,” the dispatcher responded.

          “Copy that,” Agent Fern put the radio down and turned to his partner who had pulled out a set of binoculars.

          “Odd place for a guy like this isn’t it?”  He asked.

          “Seems like it but since we were on the lookout for one white guy and two black guys, that was already strange.  I mean how many gang members hang out with Italian guys?”  Valerie wondered.  Tom nodded; it was a strange setup indeed but since it seemed that the two groups were most helpful to each other, maybe they had figured it was better to work together.

          “The blinds are closed, I can’t see anything,” his partner shook him from his thoughts.

          “For the middle of the day, you’d think they would leave them open,” Fern commented.  Waters just nodded and continued to try to find a spot to spy on the home’s occupants.  That’s when they heard a popping noise.  Quickly both agents reached for the radio but Tom was faster.

          “We have shots fired!  We’re going in!”  He shouted into the radio.  Quickly the two disembarked from the SUV and headed for the house without waiting for further instructions. They approached the front door and announced their presence.

          “FBI!”  The front door stood slightly ajar and the two proceeded with caution, their standard issue Glocks in front of them.  Walking through the living room, they found nothing but as they approached the kitchen there was someone lying on the floor in a pool of blood.  Quickly, Valerie went down to check for a pulse.

          “He’s gone,” she shook her head, looking at the gaping wound in the man’s chest.

          “Which one is he?” Tom asked.

          “I’m guessing its Shorty,” she replied. 

          “So where is Lucci?”  Her partner wondered.  That’s when they heard a car engine.  Both agents headed for the front door and saw the Italian man backing down the driveway in a hurry.  They ran after him, aiming their weapons at the tires and firing as accurately as they could.  This move made Lucci try to go faster and he managed to hit the mailbox before gunning the vehicle into drive.  He started down the street when sirens and screeching tires could be heard.  Back up had arrived and now Lucci’s only escape route was to turn the car around and head for the other side of the street.  Waters and Fern ran closer to the scene and fired again at the tires, this time managing to flatten the front driver’s side tire and the rear passenger side tire. 

          “Freeze!  Put your hands where we can see them.”  Valerie was up at the driver’s side door pointing her weapon at Lucci through the open driver’s side window in a matter of moments.  The man looked as though he was going to reach for something on the floor of the car and she screamed again.

          “I said freeze!”  This time Lucci pulled his hands level with his face.  Agent Fern opened the car door while his partner kept her gun trained on the murder suspect.  The agents from the other vehicles closed in the scene and aided in pulling Lucci from the car and handcuffing him.  One of those agents was Booth. 

          “Keep him on the curb.  I’ll be back after I check out the house,” he instructed two of the others agents who nodded and hauled the Italian man onto the curb to keep an eye on him.

          “Waters, Fern, walk me through what happened,” Booth said as he turned to the partners.

          “Right this way,” Valerie smiled and she headed for the building.  Residents of the other homes had poked their heads out of doorways and windows to see what the commotion was.  Booth saw Tom shake his head.

          “There’s always going to be gawkers,” he told him.

          “Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” Fern replied.  At this Booth gave a slight chuckle and the three entered the home.

“Well that is definitely Donovan Hinkle a.k.a Shorty.  It’s my guess when Lucci found out he got the wrong keys, he wasn’t happy,” the head G-man on the case replied.

“We noticed that Lucci tried to get into the locker but couldn’t.  What idiot grabs the wrong key?”  Valerie wondered.

“Apparently, this idiot.  Unfortunately this doesn’t help us find where they are hiding Dr. Chase’s granddaughters.  I want a team to sweep the entire house and look for any kind of evidence that the girls might have been here,” Booth ordered.

“Will do,” Tom replied.

“All right, good work you two.  I’m going to go have a friendly chat with our killer after I haul his ass back to Headquarters,” the other male agent nodded before heading back out of the house.

“I’ll get CSU,” Valerie offered and whipped out her cell phone.  Her partner nodded and began looking around the kitchen.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than the dead body on the floor. 

          “A team will be here in twenty.  Meantime, we’d better keep the locals back,” she told him.

          “Good, let’s go,” Tom smiled and they headed for the door.  Upon exiting the building, Fern turned to Waters and said,

          “I guess I owe you a beer,”

          “It wouldn’t be the first time,” she smirked.

          “How’d you get to be so fast?” he asked her.

          “When you grow up with five brothers, you learn to beat them when playing,” Valerie smiled.  Tom just shook his head and the two moved off the front porch and down to the sidewalk.

          Booth headed over to the curb, where Lucci was sitting.  He nodded to the two agents guarding him and they hauled him to his feet.

          “We’re going to have a nice long ride to the Hoover Building and you’re going to tell me where those two girls are,” the ex-Army Ranger got in his face.

          “What two girls?” Stan asked.  The look on his face made Booth wonder if the man was lying or honestly didn’t know.  He was still angry however, so he had the heavier set man loaded into the SUV and fired the ignition.


	14. Chapter 14

**FBI Headquarters, Interrogation Room 1, Friday at 3:00 pm**

          “Stop screwing around Stan.  I know you had Nathan Quick murdered and I know you shot Shorty.  That’s already two murder charges never mind the smuggling and illegal weapons.  You’re going away for a long time.  So just tell me where the girls are,” Booth’s anger continued to rise at the man’s resistance.

          “I told you before that I don’t know anything about girls.  I want my lawyer,” Lucci said ignoring the first part of what he was told.  The FBI agent shook his head.  Now they were stuck. 

          “Fine, I’ll get your lawyer,” Booth left the room completely discouraged, his face pointed toward the floor.  Either Lucci really didn’t know about the kidnapping or he was feeding him garbage.

          “I take it things aren’t going so well,” a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.  The G-man looked up and saw someone that made a smile spread across his face.

          “Bones,” was all he murmured.

          “I know you had a job to do but not picking your pregnant girlfriend at the hospital…” she didn’t get to finish as Booth had carefully wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, pressing his lips to hers quickly.

          “I promise I’ll make it up to you but right now there are two young girls missing and we have to find them,” he told her.

          “So I gathered.  No one is rabbitting their buddies out,” Brennan said.

          “It’s ratting out Bones,” her partner corrected.  She opened her mouth to say something and got cut off by Booth’s cell phone.  He put a finger up to her lips and quickly answered it.

          “Booth,” there was a long silence before the FBI agent said,

          “Take it to the Jeffersonian, get it to Dr. Jack Hodgins, immediately.”  He then hung up and turned to Brennan.

          “What needs to get to Hodgins?”  She asked.

          “CSU found sneakers covered in mud,” was all he replied, the thought that was rolling through his head wasn’t very good.

          “Those girls might be buried somewhere,” Brennan brought it up, memories flooded back of her own experience.

          “I have to alert Cullen before we get back to the Jeffersonian,” Booth said as he gently put his hand on her lower back and led her from the room.

**Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, 4:00 pm**

          The partners arrived back at the Lab and headed for the autopsy room where Cam had Donovan Hinkle’s body on the slab.

          “Well the bullet was the main cause of death but I’d say he didn’t have long to live anyway,” Dr. Saroyan said.

          “Why?”  Brennan asked.

          “He has tumors in his lungs.  Given the evidence of him chewing tobacco and smoking, I can't say I'm entirely surprised although for a young man it is odd,” Cam explained.

          “Anything on him that would help us?”  Booth wanted to know, more interested in the gang bangers personal items.

          “No.  All he had on him was a watch and a wallet.  Personally that seems a little odd considering he was working for a Mobster,” the ex-police coroner stated.

          “Very odd, now did Hodgins get the dirt sample?”  Booth inquired.

          “Yes, he’s identifying it now,” Cam nodded and the partners left her to clean up the autopsy room.

          “What do you have Hodgins?”  The FBI agent asked as he and Brennan arrived at the entomologist’s station a few moments later.

"A red-yellow soil common to the southern Piedmont and higher sections of the southern Coastal Plain in Virginia," Jack answered.

          "What?"  Booth looked confused.

          "They are two regions of Virginia where the soil is particularly easy to cultivate.  They include cities such as Richmond and Emporia," the entomologist said.

          "That doesn't exactly narrow it down Hodgins," Booth shook his head.

          "Well there was some tobacco and fertilizer mixed in with the dirt if that helps but those areas are known for their tobacco farms," Hodgins shrugged.

          "Shorty had tumors in his lungs and evidence of using tobacco products.  Any chance the two are related to the dirt?"  The FBI agent wondered.

          "Could very well be.  Hodgins look up farming towns in the area and give us a list.  Booth maybe you'd better call Charlie and see if any of the suspects' relatives own tobacco farms," Brennan cut in.  Both men obeyed her order without any question.  Jack made a mental note on how the G-man hadn't made any arguments about being bossed around.  While the two did as they were told the forensic anthropologist took a seat nearby.  Her doctor had warned her about overdoing things and Angela had tried to take her home but instead had ended up driving her to the Hoover Building.  Absentmindedly she placed her hand on her stomach as she waited for the Booth to get off the phone.

          “Uh huh, thanks Charlie, get back to me as soon as you can,” her partner sighed as he shut his cell phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

          “Charlie promised to call me as soon as he can with the info.  I should get back to my office and see if Lucci’s lawyer has arrived yet,” he ran his hand through his hair.

          “All right, Hodgins will call you when he has something,” Brennan promised.  Booth nodded as he went around the back of his partner’s chair.  Grabbing the back of it, he pushed her toward her office.

          “What do you think you are doing?  My legs work just fine,” she protested.

          “I want you to stay in your office and don’t strain yourself.  Don’t think just because you’re out of the hospital means things can go back to normal,” he scolded.

          “So your answer is to treat me like a child?”  Brennan challenged him.

          “If need be, to protect you,” Booth replied, moving his eyes toward her abdomen, noting that he was worried about the baby too.  The forensic anthropologist let out a sigh and nodded as they entered her office and he helped her into her desk chair.

          “When will I see you?”  She asked. 

          “As soon as those girls are found.  Make sure that Angela gives you a ride home,” he said.

          “We have to talk about that and what is going to happen when the case is over,” she reminded him.

          “Don’t worry, we will.  I know Cullen will be all too happy to rip me a new one,” Booth smiled slightly.  Brennan started to say something when her partner’s cell phone rang.  Quickly he answered it and listened to the person on the other end.  Almost as soon as the conversation started it was over and Booth hung up.

          “It turns out the house on L Street was owned by Shorty and his uncle has a farm near Chesterfield, Virginia,” he told her.

          “Charlie does some fast work.  I hope the girls are out there,” she said.

          “He had all the files on his desk, it was just a matter of leafing through them.  I hope that this is our big break because the longer those girls are out there, the worse their chances are,” Booth shook his head.  Hodgins came running into the office.

          “I have a list,” he said, handing the piece of paper over to Booth.  The FBI agent quickly read it and then picked up his cell phone again.

          “Charlie, this is Booth.  I need a team to meet me at Shorty’s uncle’s place,” he told the junior agent.  With that the call ended and Booth hurried out to his SUV, leaving Brennan and Hodgins in the office.  


	15. Chapter 15

**Shorty’s Uncle’s Farm Near Chesterfield, Virginia, Friday at 6:30 pm**  

          Booth pulled up near the farm’s main gate and parked behind a tree.  Then he looked at his watch.  The team he’d ordered was fifteen minutes behind him.  He shook his head and exited the SUV he’d borrowed from the earlier capture of Lucci.  Popping the trunk, he grabbed his bulletproof vest and pulled it on.  Next he checked his weapon’s magazine and his extras.  Again he checked his watch; eight more minutes until the team arrived.  He went back to the front of the government issued vehicle and grabbed the pair of binoculars off the passenger seat.  The approach to the farmhouse was going to be tricky as there was a distance of approximately a quarter of a mile.  Luckily, the tree provided cover for him but it wouldn’t for a bunch of SUV’s.  The driveway to the farm was gravel so hiding their approach would be difficult as whomever was in the farm house would hear them coming.  Visually there was no cover either unless they took to the nearby forest.  _A sniper’s worst nightmare_ , he thought to himself.  That’s when he heard two vehicles approaching from the south.  He turned and saw the team had arrived.  Jumping back into the SUV, Booth radioed the other cars.

          “Continue on past the house.  There are trees we can park in and head up to the house that way,”

          “Rodger that Agent Booth,” both cars responded.  Once the three vehicles were parked in the trees, the agents piled out and looked for some way to enter the house.

          “We should go through the forest and then use the barn as cover,” one agent suggested.

          “That works if there are no animals in the barn to alert someone to our presence,” another remarked.

          “We have two girls and Shorty’s relatives who are innocent bystanders.  We have to be careful.  One team head for the barn, the other comes with me toward the house.  For all we know Big Time could have the girls in the barn,” Booth took command.  Orders given the teams split up.  As they headed for their respective buildings there was a loud pop.

          “Gun fire.  Rush the house now!”  The G-man shouted.  Quickly the men raced to the house and charged through the back door.

          “FBI!  Drop your weapon!”  Booth yelled.  The older man who held the pump action double barrel shotgun did as he was told and one of the other agents checked the body on the floor.

          “He’s still alive!  We need a bus now!”  The agent informed the group.  A second agent rushed forward to try to help stabilize the man on the floor while another called for an ambulance.  Shorty’s uncle said nothing as a third agent cuffed him and forced him to sit down on the couch.

          “Where are the little girls?”  Booth asked the white bearded man who had given his name as Sam Hinkle. 

          “I don’t know.  All I know is this bastard got my nephew involved in something and I haven’t heard from him in days,” the man responded.  Booth looked to Big Time, who had blood coming out of his stomach.  He would be no help at all as blood started to trickle out of the corner of his mouth.

          “Search the house and all outlying buildings.  They have to be here somewhere,” the ex-Army Ranger told the remaining agents.  Quickly, those not tending to the wounded man on the floor left the room.

          “I’m losing him,” the first agent to reach Dwayne Stillman told Booth.

          “The ambulance ETA is only two minutes,” the second informed them.

          “He doesn’t have two minutes,” Booth was all too familiar with the look of death and he knew that Big Time had very little time left.  He got down on his knees and asked the gangbanger.

          “Where are Susie and Brenda?”  Dwayne gasped for air and spit up some blood before giving his answer by pointing to the open doorway that led out into the kitchen.  Booth left him and instructed the other agents to keep an eye on both men.  There didn’t appear to be anything in the kitchen and the FBI agent looked out the front door.  There was the barn and a small shed.  That had to be it.  Quickly Booth flung open the door and ran down the porch steps.  Within moments he arrived at the shed to find the door padlocked. 

          “I need a pair of bolt cutters over here,” he radioed. 

          “On my way,” friend and fellow agent Paul Cooke said.  A minute or two passed and the man showed up with the bolt cutters as the ambulance pulled up to the farmhouse. 

          “You think they’re in here?”  Cooke wondered.

          “Big Time pointed toward the front door, so I figure if the others haven’t found anything in the barn…” Booth trailed off as the lock fell to the ground and he opened the door.  At one point, there had been a well in there and now there was just a piece of plywood covering the hole. 

          “Susie! Brenda!  Are you in here?”  Booth called out.  There was no verbal response but he heard a noise below him.

          “Lets get that board off of here,” Booth motioned with his head.  Paul went to the other side and the two agents removed the board.  Both shone their flashlights into the hole and saw two girls staring up at them.  Their wrists were bound and because the space was small they both had to stand up and use the walls as supports.

          “We’re with the FBI.  Just hang on,” Booth flashed his charm smile and Paul called for some rope.

          “Are you two all right?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “We’re hungry,” the older one, Brenda, told him.

          “Well we’ll get you whatever you want to eat when we get you out of there ok?”  He continued to smile hoping that it was reassuring them.

          “Ok,” Brenda nodded.  Susie just looked at him, a mixture of feelings evident on her face.

          “Here’s the rope Agent Booth,” an agent handed over the necessary tool.

          “Do you think you can hold one while we pull you up?”  The ex-Army Ranger asked the girls.

          “I can,” Brenda said bravely.

          “How about you Susie?”  Booth wondered.  She just nodded.

          “Ok here comes the rope.  Susie, grab on,” the G-man smiled and sent the rope down, knowing that the younger girl would probably need a lot of therapy to cope with what she’d been through.  Within no time at all both girls were out of the hole and their binds cut.  Two agents escorted them out to a second ambulance that had arrived, responding to the call of shots fired.  Booth walked over to the house and was informed by the agents now holding Sam Hinkle.

          “Stillman was rushed to the hospital but I don’t think he’s going to make it,” the one answered, his hands covered in blood.

          “Arrest Mr. Hinkle and bring him back to FBI headquarters.  I want to know how much he knows about this whole situation,” Booth told him.

          “Yes, sir,” the two nodded.  The second started to head toward the driveway as the SUVs were being pulled in from their hiding spots.

          “What’s your name Agent?”  Booth asked the one who had gotten his hands dirty.

          “Stevenson, sir,” the agent answered.

          “Good job, Stevenson,” the senior agent nodded and headed over to the ambulance where Brenda and Susie were being checked out.  Once he found out how they were doing he called Bones.           


	16. Chapter 16

**FBI Headquarters, Interrogation Room 1, Friday at 8:15 pm**

          “So tell me again why you’re ruining my Friday night, Agent Booth?”  Stan Lucci’s lawyer, Alfred Dell asked.

          “Your client is going to prison for a long time.  We found Brenda and Susie,” Booth said.

          “Good but I told you I had nothing to do with that,” Lucci told him.

          “Oh, really cause that’s not what Big Time said,” Booth remarked.

          “You’re going to believe a gang banger over me?”  The small time Mob guy gave him an incredulous look.   

          “You don’t exactly have a shining record and you’re going to jail for the rest of your life.  You have nothing to lose.  However Big Time does, so yes I’m going to believe him,” the G-man said.

          “So what are you going to do?  Add kidnapping to the long list of charges my client has already been charged with?”  Dell wanted to know.

          “Well it seems that Big Time was in a squealing mood, heading for your third strike will do that to a guy.  He said the whole idea was yours and that he was just doing it to make some extra money,” Booth told them.

          “That’s what he said huh?  Would you be surprised to know that the kidnapping was Shorty’s idea?  I only found out after I hauled the good doctor into it,” Stan said.

          “How am I supposed to verify that?  Shorty’s dead with your bullets in him,” the FBI agent wondered.

          “I guess you can’t.  But I have something else that might interest you,” Lucci narrowed his eyes, as if he was hiding a big secret.

          “Oh and what would that be?”  Booth inquired.

          “I need a minute with my client,” Alfred cut in.  Booth lifted his hands and pulled himself up out of his chair.  He left the room so the two could talk.

          “What do you suppose he has on some other Mob guy?”  Agent Jerry Lee wondered.

          “I don’t know.  Whatever it is, it had better be good,” Booth looked to the Marshal.

          “Especially since Big Time is dead and has been for an hour,” Agent Nancy Barrett shook her head.

          “Yes well he doesn’t know that.  Besides…” Booth didn’t get to finish as his cell phone rang.  He looked at the caller and saw it was Bones.  Excusing himself, he answered.

          “Hey Bones.  I’m in the middle of an interrogation, are you ok?”

          “Yes, I’m fine.  I wanted to leave you a message but since you picked up I…” she started before he cut her off.

          “Do you need something?”  He cut her off.

          “Just for you to be at my place when you finish.  We have a lot to talk about and it can’t wait anymore.  I received a voicemail from Cullen.  He wants us in his office tomorrow morning at nine,” the forensic anthropologist told him, her tone slightly annoyed at being cut off before.

          “He called you?”  Booth swallowed hard.

          “Yes, he seems to think I’m your personal secretary,” Brennan’s annoyance was now more pronounced.

          “All right, I’ll be over as soon as I’m finished.  Bye,” Booth closed his phone and pinched the bridge of his nose.  A tapping on the glass alerted him to the fact that Lucci was done talking to his lawyer.  Quickly, Booth reentered the room and took his seat.

          “So what do you have for me?”  He asked.

          “First off my client wants a deal,” Dell said.

          “That depends on what he has but two counts of murder really isn’t going to get better,” Booth told them.

          “Just hear me out.  Doctor Chase isn’t as innocent as it seems.  He came to me for a loan.  Turns out his credit rating is in the crapper and he can’t get anything from the bank.  So I promised him extra cash if he helped me with heists at the Jeffersonian,” Lucci started.

          “He came to you?  How did he know you?”  Booth wanted to know.

          “Through a mutual friend.  Anyway, he didn’t want to lose his house or his fancy cars so he practically begged me for the money,” Lucci continued.

          “He makes good money at the Jeffersonian,” Booth interjected.

          “Yeah well betting on the ponies will do that to a guy,” the low level Mob guy smirked before continuing.

          “With Quick already on the inside it was a perfect deal.  Unfortunately for Nathan he knew too much and asked too many questions.  Especially once I managed to get my hands on the weapons,” Lucci said.

          “You knew Quick?” Booth gave him a look.

          “Yeah, he’d done some jobs for me before and he was hiding from those gang bangers.  Problem was he didn’t know I was working with them too.  So when Nathan had outlived his usefulness, I let Shorty and Big Time handle it.  As for the good Doctor seems, Shorty and Big Time thought he needed more incentive,” Stan explained. 

          “All right, well I’ve heard enough.  I’ll call the DA and have him call you,” Booth stood up and headed back toward the other room.  Lucci was taken back to lock up and Marshals Barrett and Lee informed him of their next move.

          “Seems as though our boss wants Lucci in protective custody and Dr. Chase out of it,”

          “What?  I have Lucci dead to rights on two counts of murder and at least fifty counts of international smuggling.  What are you going to do with him?”  Booth didn’t bother to hide how upset he was.

          “Apparently, his lawyer has been wheeling and dealing behind your back.  He told our boss that he could give up the Montoni crime family,” Lee explained.  The explanation however didn’t make the G-man feel any better.

          “So he gets away with murder,” Booth shook his head and pounded his fist into the wall.

          “Well he’s yours now.  Send Dr. Chase to the locals for booking and holding,” the FBI agent continued as he left the room.

          He made it back to his office in record time and found that he had quite a few office e-mails to answer.  Something in his head told him to look through them but the rest of him wondered if it would be worth it.  No doubt his relationship with Bones was going to send his ass to the review board and he’d already been in trouble with them before.  How much longer he’d keep his current position was a number that seemed to be shrinking by the hour.  Still he quickly scanned the sender’s list and found most of them could wait until the morning.  Except for the one at the bottom.  It was from Cullen.

          “My office 9 am tomorrow.”  Was all the e-mail said.  _Well it seems his mood isn’t improving.  I’d better get over to Bones’ apartment_ , he thought to himself.  Quickly he closed out of all the open programs and booted the computer down.  Grabbing his suit coat and keys, he headed out of the office and to the elevator.

**Brennan’s Apartment, 10:30 pm**

          A knock on the door pulled Brennan from her laptop screen and she quickly set down the portable computer on the coffee table.  She reached the door and opened it, not at all surprised to see Booth standing there.  The look on his face was slightly surprising.

          “What happened?”  She asked.

          “Seems as though the Marshals were more interesting in using Lucci as the smaller fish then to convict him of murder,” Booth had a look of disgust on his face.

          “Smaller fish?”  Brennan wondered.

          “Yeah, they’re using him as a smaller fish to catch the bigger fish,” her partner explained.  She still didn’t quite get it but it was obvious that things didn’t go as planned.

          “Well I guess there is nothing we can do now but deal with what is coming our way,” she commented.

“I got an e-mail which said to meet Cullen at nine,” Booth said taking a seat on the couch.

“So we know what’s going to happen the only thing to do is show our solidarity.  If he understands the situation maybe then we can talk like adults,” Brennan took a seat next to him.  Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she placed her head on his shoulder in return.

“He’s going to be mad; threaten me with the review board…” his thoughts trailed off.

“We’ll take it in stride.  If we approach this logically then we should be able to work out something,” Brennan confidence was evident.

“God, I hope you’re right,” Booth leaned over and kissed her hair.

“How are you feeling?”  He asked her after a few moments of silence.

“Very well thank you.  The pain medication seems to be helping and I made sure that the pills won’t harm the baby,” the forensic anthropologist gave him a smile.

“There was something I wanted to ask you before this got all complicated and I hope that you’ll hear me out,” Booth said.  She carefully sat up and raised an eyebrow.

“What is it?”  Brennan asked hoping everything was all right.

“I know we’ve been hiding our relationship from everyone and I thought that after all this time, we were ready to make it public knowledge.  Then we found out about the baby and I wasn’t sure what to do next and…” Brennan cut him off.

“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”

“Well I was just going to ask you to move in with me.  I’m not saying we have to get married later or anything; you’ve made it blatantly clear you don’t need a piece of paper to prove that you…” Again she cut him off in mid-sentence.

“And your faith?  What of the rules your God set down?”

“Temperance, you mean more to me than anyone I’ve ever been in a relationship.  I’ll work out the religious aspects later.  Right now all I care about is you and the child we’re going to have,” Booth’s face relayed how serious he was.

“Then we can move in together.  I suppose this means I’ll have to meet your family,” Brennan said.

“The whole bunch of them,” her partner smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

**FBI Headquarters, Cullen’s Office, Saturday at 9:00 am**

          Booth and Brennan stood outside Cullen’s office, neither one wanting to knock on the door.  It was something Brennan would have normally called “childish” but then again who wants to go to a meeting where a partnership is going to be spilt up and the possibility of getting fired is very real.  The hallway was very quiet for a Saturday morning and Booth had figured that was the best time to yell since not too many people would hear it.  Then as if he knew they were standing outside the door in silence, Deputy Director Sam Cullen opened his office door.  The look on his face was stern and quickly the partners filed in and sat down.

          “I think we all know why we’re here,” Cullen spoke up.

          “Yes, sir,” Booth replied.

          “Well then lets get to it.  Agent Booth I have seriously contemplated my next move in this situation and let me tell you it wasn’t an easy one,” his boss said.  Brennan reached over and squeezed her partner’s hand. 

          “Fraternizing with your partner is only the most recent of offenses to come to my attention.  I could spend time talking about all the past incidences but I’m sure that the review board will remind you.  I also know that they would certainly have your head and your job after finding out what I found out not too long ago,” Cullen continued.

          “Yes, sir,” Booth answered.

          “Am I upset you and Dr. Brennan are involved?  No.  Everyone deserves to be happy and I do not begrudge you for wanting happiness.  Am I upset that I found out from a rather loose-lipped nurse?  You bet.  At least if you had told me before hand we’ve could have worked something out to hide your relationship.  But now my hand is forced and I have no other options.  In a matter of time your relationship will become public knowledge and I could not begin to imagine what the press and the courts will do with this information,” the Deputy Director said, his volume was starting to increase.  It was now that Brennan took an opportunity to speak.

          “With all due respect sir, I do not work **_for_** the FBI but **_with_** the FBI.  Who I am involved with romantically is none of the FBI’s business,” 

          “It is when your murder solving rate is nearly perfect!  Do you have any idea how many of the people you convicted would request new trials because they found out the lead forensic anthropologist at the Jeffersonian and her FBI partner were sleeping with each other?”  Cullen raised his voice some more.  His anger was starting to get the better of him. 

          “That might be true sir but the evidence is solid.  Never once has a case been compromised because of our relationship,” Booth defended Brennan.

          “I believe you, but will a judge?  Will the review board?”  The questions posed by the senior member of the FBI made their point.  Silence followed from the partners and Cullen continued.

          “My point exactly.  So as of Monday morning I have no other choice but to do what is necessary,” 

          “I understand sir,” Booth nodded, accepting his fate. 

          “I will announce my retirement and my chosen successor,” the bomb was dropped and Brennan looked at her partner.

          “I’m sure that will not make some people happy but to waste your talent would be stupid.  I’ve put in enough time and my wife has been begging me to retire.  She wants to travel to all the places our daughter wanted to go,” Cullen told them.

          “Sir, I…” Booth didn’t get to finish.

          “Monday morning be prepared for the Director to be announcing your promotion.  Act surprised, shake my hand, and do all the things a normal person would do when finding out they’ve been promoted.  This will still end your partnership and another agent will fill your place but you’ll be able to oversee everything.  As for Dr. Brennan…” he turned to her, a genuine smile on his face.      

          “Congratulations.  Now as for your side of the story, I trust a New York Times Best Seller could come up with some sort of cover?”  The Deputy Director asked.  A smile crossed the forensic anthropologist’s face.

            “It shouldn’t be too hard sir,”

          “Good, then I’ll see you Monday morning Booth,” Cullen stuck out his hand.  The FBI agent rose and quickly grasped the hand extended to him.

          “Thank you sir,” he smiled.

          “Get used to having people call you that and for the love of God don’t make me regret my decision,” Cullen replied.

          “I won’t sir,” Booth nodded.

          “Now go take Dr. Brennan out to lunch,” the older man ordered.

          “Yes, sir,” Booth smiled and grabbed the forensic anthropologist’s hand as they both left the office.

**The Royal Diner 11:30 am**  

                “Do you think they’ll have pie before noon?”  Booth wondered as they exited the SUV.

          “Is that all you think about when go out?”  Brennan wanted to know.

          “Hey the pie is delicious here.  Besides the occasion calls for it,” he said.  Brennan rolled her eyes as he opened the door to the diner for her.

          “What happened today wasn’t logical.  We should both be in trouble up to our…” she paused trying to remember what the phrase was as they sat down at their favorite booth.

          “Eyeballs, Bones.  Anyway, let’s be thankful we aren’t and get some lunch,” he told her.  The waitress came by and dropped off some menus before taking their drink orders.

          “So you realize you’ll have to lie when you make up something about our relationship and the baby,” Booth spoke once the waitress left.

          “Yes, I thought about that and I’ve come to a decision,” Brennan said.

          “Oh and what is that?”  He asked.

          “Logically there is no adverse affect so it can be deemed acceptable,” she explained.

          “So no one gets hurt this time and it’s ok?”  Booth raised an eyebrow.

          “Yes,” she answered as their drinks came out and the waitress took their order.

          “All right well we’d better discuss it before you make the announcement.  You’ve got another book coming out soon and everyone will be asking you questions.  We’ll probably have to tell my family the same story so that if they get pestered by the paparazzi they don’t say something different,” he said.

          “Then the first time I meet them, I have to lie to them?”  Brennan didn’t like the sound of that.

          “Whether we like it or not, my father won’t be so thrilled that once again I’m having a child out of wedlock so the less they know the better,” Booth explained.  Brennan nodded and took a sip of her iced tea.

          “So your father isn’t going to like me?  Is that what you’re saying?”  She asked.

          “I don’t care if he does or not.  I love you and that’s what matters,” he hoped that she would be all right with it as he reached across the table for her hand.

          “Then that’s all that matters,” Brennan smiled and reached out and grabbed his hand.  Soon the food came out and their conversation once again turned to pie.  After lunch was over they headed to Brennan’s apartment to iron out all the details.


	18. Chapter 18

**The Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab, Monday at 10:15 am**

          Angela scurried around the lab hoping to avoid bumping into Hodgins, Zach, or Cam.  With the case over, it was now time to get Brennan to answer her questions.  She knew about the baby but her friend hadn’t returned any of her phone calls all weekend.  Slipping inside the forensic anthropologist’s office, the artist quickly shut the door to avoid being overheard.

          “What are you doing hun?”  Angela asked after noticing the far off look on Brennan’s face as she took a seat across from her friend’s desk.

          “Waiting for Booth,” her friend replied.

          “Why?  The case is over and the paperwork is done,” Angela was a little confused.

          “He has to sign some of the papers before everything is done and I have to sign his paperwork.  Then we’ll be done,” Brennan clarified.

          “So then another job well done, as usual,” the forensic artist smiled.

          “The case is finished but Booth wasn’t happy about the outcome,” Brennan told her.

          “Why is that?” Angela wondered.

          “Well the two accomplices are dead, Dr. Chase has been arrested, his job here at the Jeffersonian has been terminated, and Stan Lucci is in Federal Witness Protection,” the world-renowned author made a face and let out a sigh.

          “So the real bad guy is living life while everyone associated with him is either dead or in prison.  Yeah I could see why Booth wouldn’t be happy with that.  Speaking of Booth, why didn’t you answer your phone this weekend?”  Angela easily switched topics.

          “We had a lot to discuss and he wants me to meet his family.  He already met mine so I suppose it’s only fair, especially since I’m carrying his child,” Brennan rationalized.

          “That’s adorable but that didn’t take all weekend,” the forensic artist tried to cut to the heart of the matter.

          “No, it didn’t.  We also discussed our plans for the future.  Things are going to be very different around here now,” her friend said without really giving anything away.  Angela knew that once the pregnancy came out it was only a matter of time before the partner’s would be split up at work and some new agent would fill in.  Before she got to ask anymore questions however, Booth practically knocked down the door as he entered Brennan’s office.

          “Speak of the devil,” Angela smirked.  Booth raised an eyebrow and turned to Brennan.

          “You ready Bones?”  He asked.

          “When am I not?”  She looked confused.  Shaking his head, the FBI agent went to her seat and grabbed the armrests.

          “Oh no you don’t, I’m walking out of here.  No use in babying me,” she protested.  Booth and Angela couldn’t help but laugh at her choice of words.  Brennan shook her head and pulled herself carefully out of her office chair. 

          “Lets go,” she said.

          “Where are you going?”  Angela asked.  Her answer was to have Booth pull her out of her seat.

          “You’re coming too,” he smiled.

          “Oh this sounds like fun,” the forensic artist giggled and quickly followed the partners over to the upstairs lounge area where Hodgins, Cam, and Zach sat waiting.

          “So what’s all the hubbub this morning?  I was digging into some rather interesting bugs,” Hodgins eyed the partners. 

          “I was looking at some remains from the First World War,” Zach said.

          “Yes, that’s all very exciting but I’m sure whatever Booth has to say is slightly more important,” Cam rolled her eyes, the sarcasm evident in her voice.  This quieted the two men who were behaving like little boys.

          “Are we quite finished?” Brennan asked before she carefully sat down in one of the seats at the table.  Booth couldn’t help but smile at that comment and then he turned to the group.

          “As of this morning, I will no longer be working with the Jeffersonian,” the news shared, he waited for a reaction. 

          “What? Why?”  Cam wanted to know.  Hodgins’ eyes had gone wide and Zach just sat there waiting for the logical explanation.  _Figures_ , Booth said to himself.

          “That’s because I’m no longer a Special Agent, I’m a Deputy Director,” now the lounge erupted in congratulations.

          “But that’s not the only news we have to share,” Brennan spoke up.

          “We?”  Cam gave a slight smile.

          “Yes, we,” Booth took the forensic anthropologists hand in his.

          “I knew it!”  Hodgins exclaimed.

“Thank you Jack but did you know I was pregnant?”  Brennan leveled the question at him.  Angela was the first to hug her friend but that was of course because she already knew.  Cam was next, despite the little pang of knowing that her chances to get back with Booth were now nil.  They had gone over that before but she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if things had been different.  Hodgins grabbed Zach and pushed him toward Booth.  The entomologist had no trouble shaking the new Deputy Director’s hand and congratulating him but socially awkward Zach was another matter. 

“Congratulations,” the young forensic anthropologist smiled slightly unsure of what else to do.  He and Booth never shook hands before.

“Thanks,” Booth smiled and extended his hand.  Zach looked at it and gave a confused look before extending his own hand.  The handshake was a new move forward for the two and Hodgins had to break it up as he shook his head and cut in by grabbing Zach’s arm.

“That’ll do donkey, that’ll do,” he teased knowing that Zach wouldn’t get the joke.  Booth let out a laugh.

          “Well I have to get back to the Hoover Building after I sign some paperwork so I’ll catch everyone later,” the G-man said.

          “Of course, you’d better stop by often,” Angela smiled and gave him a wink.

          “As often as I can,” he winked back before he and Brennan left the lounge.

**Brennan’s Apartment 6:00 pm**

                The forensic anthropologist sat on the couch and waited for Booth to get back from the kitchen.  He was grabbing some drinks for them.

          “Here we go.  Beer for me and water for you,” he smiled.  Brennan made a face as she accepted the drink.

          “We have to buy some iced tea or lemonade or something,” she told him.

          “All right, we’ll do that,” he couldn’t help but smile some more.

          “What’s up with the goofy grin?”  Brennan asked.

          “Just loving life Bones,” Booth smiled.  She smiled back and they leaned towards each other.  However before their lips could meet, Booth’s cell phone rang.

          “I’d better get that.  I put a call into my mom,” he told her.  She nodded and he answered his phone.  There was a short conversation with a lot of “yes, sirs” in it and Brennan wondered who he was talking to.  When Booth put the phone down, his mood had completely changed. 

          “Who was it?”  She asked.

          “My dad,” he let out a sigh.  Brennan looked to him for more of an explanation.

          “It was just his way of saying ‘of course you’re welcome to visit but you’re not married and I’m going to continue to look down at you for the rest of your life’, kind of conversation,” he continued.

          “So, what do you want to do?”  She asked, knowing how much Booth wanted to have his parents be happy.

          “I don’t know.  I guess he still hasn’t forgiven me for Rebecca either.  I mean he loves Parker but…” he trailed off.

          “Well we have to make him see what he’ll be missing.  I’ll be moving in with you soon.  Then we’re going to look for a house.  My next book is coming out next month.  All these good things shouldn’t be just pushed aside,” she told him.  Booth nodded.

          “I’m sure my mom would love to have us over no matter what.  She said she was going to call my brother, Jared, and maybe we’ll stop in and see him first,” he said.  Brennan smiled.

          “After my book tour, I’ll probably have to go on maternity leave so that’ll be the perfect time to travel,” she placed her hand on his leg.

          “Sounds like a plan.  Meantime, I suppose we should get some cardboard boxes huh?” Booth brought out his charm smile again.

          “That sounds wonderful, my landlord will be all to happy to get rid of me after all that has happened in this apartment.  He’ll probably get someone willing to pay extra for living here because I once lived here,” she shook her head.  Booth leaned over and kissed her temple.

          “Why don’t we focus on something good like baby names?”  He asked her.  Brennan raised an eyebrow and wondered,

          “Do you already have a list?”


	19. Chapter 19

**Four Months Later…**

                Booth and Brennan sat on one of the two couches in the living room of their new home.  They were exhausted from the day’s activities of moving boxes into rooms and trying to figure out what should go where.

          “It seems we have too much furniture,” Brennan mused as she placed her hand over her large abdomen.

          “You got that right.  So should we put some of it up on Ebay and say that the famous Temperance Brennan once sat on it?”  Booth smirked.  She shot him a look. 

          “Well we certainly don’t need two couches, two coffee tables, and four end tables do we?”  He wondered.

          “No, we don’t.  Maybe Russ will want some,” Brennan shrugged looking around the room.

          “That’s an idea,” he smiled and leaned over to kiss her temple.

          “Whoever thought we’d be in our own house in such a short time?”  He continued.

          “Well the real estate agent wasn’t kidding when he said it was a buyer’s market,” the forensic anthropologist reminded him.  Booth nodded and stood up as his stomach growled.

          “So what are we eating for dinner?”  He asked.

          “Well someone is going to have to go out and get some food.  We’re out,” Brennan pointed out the obvious.

          “Hmmm, then what’ll be?  Ice cream with pickles or peanut butter and strawberries?”  He teased.

          “I couldn’t help the strange craving.  Besides the ice cream and pickles were disgusting,” she gave him another look.

          “Don’t I know it.  The poor cashier at the grocery store almost threw up when she was cashing me out,” Booth couldn’t help but chuckle.  Brennan just scrunched her nose up and shook her head.  Then there was a knock at the door.  They both looked at each other with confusion on their faces.

          “Who is that at this hour?”  Brennan wondered, after all it was almost nine o’clock.

          “Do you think Angela forgot something earlier?”  Booth questioned as he headed for the door.

          “It’s possible but I’m not sure how she would find it in this mess,” she told him.  Booth shrugged and opened the door.

          “Jared?”  The name slipped out of his mouth in disbelief.

          “Good to see you too bro,” his brother smirked that ever recognizable Booth smirk.  Then the two wrapped their arms around one another.

          “I thought we were coming to Pittsburg next month,” Booth said.

          “Well I got to thinking that you shouldn’t move in all by yourselves, especially when you have a pregnant girlfriend.  By the way is that her?” Jared smiled and nodded toward one of the couches.

          “Geez, where is my brain.  Bones is this my brother Jared.  Jared, Bones,” the simple introduction made, the elder Booth gave Temperance a gentle hug.

          “He calls you Bones?”  He gave her a questioning look.

          “Long story,” she smiled.

          “I’ll bet,” he winked before continuing, “So what’s on the agenda?  Moving furniture, boxes, stringing up Christmas lights?”

          “Christmas lights?  In September?”  Brennan looked confused.  Booth chuckled.

          “He’s teasing.  Besides it’ll probably take until Christmas to find our decorations anyway.  As for plans, we were about to get some dinner, what are you in the mood for?”

          “Hmmm, beer and pizza will do,” Jared rubbed his flat stomach.

          “Then that’s what we’re having.  A salad and tea for Bones though, no alcohol for her yet,” Seeley said before heading to the phone to call the local pizza place.

          About forty minutes later, they were enjoying their dinner when Booth asked Jared something that had been bothering him.

          “So any chance of Mom and Dad joining us too?”  Jared chewed his pizza thoughtfully before answering, telling Booth that he was trying to tip toe around the subject.

          “I don’t wanna rain on your parade bro but they still haven’t gotten on the ‘I’m not married but I having a baby’ wagon.  I mean you know how they are.  Personally, I think you have a wonderful girl and I’m happy to be an uncle again,” Booth let out a sigh after hearing this.

          “I appreciate that.  I needed to hear it,” Brennan looked to him, knowing that it hurt to have his parents not supporting them.

          “Have you told them our plans?”  She asked, hoping that some sort of agreement could be met.

          “I’ve tried.  Mom can deal but Dad just refuses,” he explained.

          “I don’t understand,” she let out a sigh, slightly irritated.

          “I suppose I should have seen it coming.  They were this way with Rebecca.  In fact, I don’t think that Dad has ever said anything nice to her.  Mom was at least civil,” Booth shrugged.

          “Hey don’t sweat it.  When you have the baby and they realize that they’ll be missing out on their second grandchild, they’ll come around,” Jared tried to reassure them.  Silence fell between the three for some time before all the pizza was gone.

          “Looks like we’re done here.  I’ll cleanup,” Jared offered.

          “Oh no you don’t.  You’re here as a guest.  Besides we don’t have anywhere for you to sleep,” Booth teased.

          “I’ll take one of the couches, I mean you have two,” Jared said.

          “Please don’t remind me,” Brennan shook her head.  Another knock at the door, made the three of them look at each other.  It was almost eleven o’clock.

          “I’ll get it,” the older Booth offered and quickly answered the door.

          “Mom?”  He looked shocked.

          “Jared?”  She was just as surprised.

          “Mom?”  Booth was now heading for the door after hearing his brother.

          “Hello Seeley,” the woman entered the house and gave her son a hug.

          “Not that I’m upset but what are you doing here?  Alone?”  Booth asked.

          “Your father is pigheaded sometimes and I apologize for that but I told him we had to help you move.  He refused, so I left at home by himself,” she explained.

          “Sometimes and you did?” Seeley looked to Jared who only shrugged his shoulders with an ‘I don’t know’ look on his face.

          “Ok, most of the time and yes,” she answered.

          “What’s going on?”  Brennan asked as she tried to lift herself from the sofa.

          “Hang on Bones,” in a flash, Booth was over there helping her up to her feet.

          “Mom, I’d like you to meet Temperance Brennan.  Bones, my mother, Catherine Booth,” the introduction made, Brennan extended a hand fully expecting things to be awkward.  Instead she got a huge hug from the little lady.

          “Nice to meet you,” the anthropologist said.  Mrs. Booth gave a smile and then turned to her boys.

          “It looks like you two have quite a bit of work to do.  I want this living room ready for bed in half and hour,” Catherine ordered.

          “But Ma…” Jared started.

          “But Ma nothing.  I’m expecting to have somewhere to sleep.  Temperance and I need to have a talk.  Now snap to,” Mrs. Booth put her foot down.  There were no more objections but the looks on their faces betrayed that they were both uncomfortable leaving Brennan with their mother.  Still the boys quickly got to work clearing the couches and finding blankets and pillows.  Booth’s mother led Brennan into the kitchen.

          “Now, you’ll have to forgive an old lady but I’m very much set in my ways.  There are a few questions I expect answers to and I don’t want any lies,” Catherine told her.

          “I can assure you Mrs. Booth, I will answer your questions but I resent the fact that you think I’d lie to you.  You don’t even know me,” Brennan responded.

          “Fair enough.  First off, do you intend to marry my son?”  Mrs. Booth wanted to know.

          “No.  We’ve discussed it.  I find marriage to be completely unnecessary to show how much I love Seeley,” Brennan answered.

          “He’s accepted this?” the older woman asked.

          “Yes.  We have decided to live together in this wonderful home with a wonderful yard to raise our family,” the anthropologist shot back.

          “What if you break up?  You two aren’t married and you would get the child,” Booth’s mother gave her a look.

          “I love your son too much to ever break up with him and even if we did, I would still let him see his son or daughter.  As much as you find this whole affair unsettling, he and I do not.  We are happy and we intend to stay that way for years to come.  Right now it is killing Booth that you and your husband do not accept our agreed lifetime partnership.  Even if you do not like me, I hope that you will not punish your son or grandchild for it.  I grew up most of my life without parents or grandparents and I’d prefer that not happen to Booth or our child,” Brennan put her foot down.  Catherine Booth stared her in the eyes.  Brennan certainty of what was to be was undeniable.

          “One more question, who will care for the child while you two are at work?”  She asked.

          “I’ll be taking the first few months off from work, then from there, Booth and I will figure something out.  We’re two very capable people,” Brennan assured her.  That only got her another look however and she could feel her blood pressure begin to go up.  Just then Booth walked into the kitchen. 

          “Well I know someone who needs her beauty rest.  Come on Bones, time for bed,” he smiled.  The look he got surprised him.

          “I’ll see you up there,” irritation evident in her voice, which left Booth wondering what he’d done.  Then he turned to his mother.

          “Mom, what did you say?”

          “I voiced my concerns is all,” she told him.  He rolled his and left the room before the urge to say something he’d later regret overwhelmed him. 

          Later, Booth crawled into bed and was met by Brennan’s unhappy face.  He could tell that her anger was very close to winning the argument in her head.  Carefully he put his hand around her large middle and kissed her forehead.

          “She questioned everything we’re doing.  I don’t think she’ll ever understand,” she told him.

          “Well in their eyes I’m not exactly a model son so it makes you even less of a model person.  Without knowing you they are blinded by their beliefs.  Anyway, I love you and that is all I need,” he told her.         She smiled, some of the anger dissipating.

          “If that is all that matters to you, then that’s all that matters to me,” the two then pressed their lips together before falling asleep in each other’s arms.  There would always be roadblocks they would have to face but together, they would tackle them.  That’s what partners do.

**The End**


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